Skyward
by fishwrites
Summary: Merlin has more than one secret to keep. prompt: Merlin was born with angel wings. Slash/AU
1. prologue

**S K Y W A R D**

**:i:**

**_prologue._**

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Will had said, smiling in a way that only six year olds could, all teeth and mischief. On Will, it was more of a leer. Merlin, who was five, stared at his best (and only) friend for a moment before frowning warily.

"Are you sure?" He asked, because his mother was always very insistant on hiding them.

"Yeah. You first," said Will.

"Okay." Merlin had said. Then he had carefully taken off his new coat, pulled his shirt over his head and turned around. They were small and white, curving neatly into the dip of his back, downy feathers warm from being folded tight against his body. Merlin unfurled them tentatively from his shoulders. Will stared, goggle eyed.

That was the first time anyone, other than his mother, had seen his wings.

As it turned out, Will didn't have wings. Merlin had felt betrayed and hurt when his friend revealed his back – smooth and unmarred and _normal_. And Will had stared and stared and stared.

"You tricked me!" screamed Merlin, pushing the other boy away when he reached for the feathers.

"No I didn't!" protested Will, eyes still wide with wonder, "You were supposed to pull down your pants, not your shirt. Stupid! Tom told me it's a game you play and whoever wins gets to be king," he paused, then added as an afterthought, "I bet I would be king."

"No you wouldn't," snapped Merlin, blinking away angry tears.

"I would too. You could be my angel sidekick. Advisor, even," Will offered.

"M'not an angel," Merlin protested, looking slightly mollified all the same. "Mum says I can't let people know. Not supposed to... You won't tell, will you?"

"'Course I won't," said Will stoutly. Dust motes floated around their heads in the afternoon light filtering through the top of the barn. Their only other witness was the grey speckled cat who lived with Old Man Simmons across the paddock and was regarding Merlin's wings with large, yellow eyes.

A moment passed between them, heavy with secrets, curiosity and trust.

"Well," said Will. "Can I touch them then?"

Merlin spread his fledgling wings. And for the time being, everything was right again.

*

The first time it happened, Merlin thought nothing of it. Leia, a little girl who often followed Will around like an adoring puppy, had tripped over uneven stones which sent her sprawling. Will had laughed unkindly and Leia had burst into tears, threatening to tell her mother that Will and Merlin were being _mean. _Merlin elbowed Will in the ribs reprovingly and crouched down to help her up. Apart from skinned knees and cuts on her palm, she was fine, still sniffling and glaring over at Will who was afraid of girls who cried and stayed a safe distance away. Merlin ran a finger over one of the deeper cuts on her hand and said,

"Look, all better now. Don't cry, Leia."

When he looked back down again, the cut was gone. Will tugged on his arm, "Come _on_. Let's go already," and he allowed himself to be led away.

"You don't fancy her, do you?" asked Will sometime later, "Because she's a baby. And she cries."

"No," said Merlin, "I mean, no. I don't fancy her."

"Good," said Will. Merlin flexed his right hand tentatively, the cut on his palm stinging as he uncurled his fingers.

The second time it happened, Will found out about his second secret. It was winter, the air chilled even when the sun came out and Merlin and Will had decided to temporarily hide in the woods before they were roped into helping with the preparations for Yuletide. Well, like most things between the two of them, it was really Wills idea because he had set loose the butcher's chickens yesterday and didn't want to run the risk of seeing the man today.

Playing hide and seek in the snow was a difficult business, reflected Merlin, trying to run and wipe out his footprints behind him simultaneously. Plus, the snow was cold and wet and got into his boots which made his feet cold. His wings were hidden away under three woolen shirts and a new winter coat, which meant the usual lump was not visible at all. Merlin was trying to fit himself into a hollow of a tree when he saw the white lump in the snow at the roots.

Looking around and not seeing Will anywhere (he was doing the seeking, as usual, which wasn't fair but Will was nine and Merlin was eight so Will got the final say) he knelt down in the unspoilt snow and poked warily at the lump with his gloved fingers. It was a tiny rabbit.

Breath misting up before his face, Merlin gently cupped the animal in both palms and held it close to his chest, delighted when the animal didn't try to wriggle away. He stroked its furry head for a few moments, until he noticed the little stain of blood on the rabbit's white fur. Its leg was bent at a funny angle.

"Oh no," breathed Merlin, standing up carefully. He took off one of his gloves and held it between his teeth as he carefully stretched out the broken leg. "I'll help you," he said sympathetically, something warm curling in his chest, "It'll be better soon I promi-"

He heard, rather than felt the sickening _crack_ of breaking bone as his left leg snapped at the knee. Then the pain forced a scream through his throat and he crumpled to the ground, his other leg unable to keep him upright as he sobbed and screamed and couldn't stop screaming because it _hurt_.

Distantly, he could hear a voice: "Merlin. Merlin! Where the- MERLIN." Then Will's face came into view, pale with fright, hands on Merlin's shoulders.

"What happened? Merlin? Your leg, how- stupid clumsy idiot-" he slung one of Merlin's shaking arms over his shoulder and tried to haul him upright. The movement jostled Merlin's broken leg and he gasped with the pain of it, tears streaking and blurring his vision.

"Rabbit…did I crush it?" asked Merlin, words slurring. "Where's the rabbit, Will?"

"What? What rabbit?"

"The rabbit. Did I…is it…?"

"It's just a sprained ankle, right? Don't be a baby. Merlin? Merlin! We're nearly- don't fall asleep, Merlin. Merlin!"

According to Will, who ranted and raved with enough rage to satisfy a hundred 10 year olds, insulting Merlin's ability to fall over flat ground and scare his friends to death, he had passed out before Hunith and half the villagers had come running, alarmed at the sound of Merlin's screams.

His leg took 3 weeks to heal.

Later, when his Mother had left the two of them to make them supper, Merlin finally told Will about the rabbit "that he had been rambling about before he fainted."

"I think I healed it," said Merlin quietly, staring at his hands, scared to meet Will's gaze. "It had a broken leg."

There was a long silence.

"You healed a rabbit. Why?"

Merlin looked up, incredulous. "It would have frozen to death, otherwise! Or been eaten by a fox."

"I would have eaten it," said Will doggedly.

"Will!"

Another pause. Merlin played with the edge of his blanket, and the fire crackled in the corner hearth.

"You don't think I'm a…freak then?" he asked, with faux nonchalance that he couldn't quite manage to pull off.

"You're a _girl,_ Merlin."

*

Merlin didn't know how to fly.

His wings grew as he did, the soft white downy fluff replaced with stiff swan-like feathers that were tipped with gold in a certain light. The wings began to arch higher above his shoulders, sweeping lower across his hips so that it was almost impossible to hide under a shirt or jacket. His mother worried.

However, at fifteen, his wings seemed to have stopped growing (much to his secret disappointment). When folded, they were able to be tucked away. Outstretched, the wingspan was about the same as his arm-span and no matter how hard he flapped them, failed to lift Merlin off the ground. This disappointed him more than he liked to admit, after all, what was the use of them if he couldn't fly?

It was inevitable, really, that Hunith found out that Will had found out.

Summer brought pollen and flowers and tree heavy with leaves. Cats curled lazily in afternoon sunshine whilst Merlin and Will tried to find somewhere to cool off. In the end, they hid in one of the disused barns at the edge of the village: full of stray hay bales and dust and mice. Will took his shirt off with a sigh.

"It's too bloomin' hot around here."

Merlin rolled his eyes, his own shirt scratchy against his shoulders, damp with sweat. Will eyed him for a moment in sympathy.

"No one will come in here, you'll be fine."

Merlin bit his lip. A fly buzzed in the loft. Merlin took his shirt off.

It was a luxurious feeling, to stretch his wings out. Merlin thought it was because they were forced to be folded tight all day, only when he was sleeping and the door locked did Hunith let him stretch his wings. He relished it, the feeling of wind through his feathers, arching and folding his wings repeatedly to work out the aches that constantly itched at him. Plus, he hated it when his down feathers got damp with sweat, and the tail feathers were a bitch to clean. He flopped down on his stomach beside Will, stretching his wings out as far as they will go with a sigh of relief. Will tugged at one of the feathers. Merlin treated him to a glare.

"Have they gotten bigger?" asked Will.

"Nah," said Merlin, twisting around to peer over his shoulder. "I think they've stopped growing for good. Any bigger and I won't be able to hide them so easily."

"Maybe you're just destined for small things," smirked Will.

Merlin hit him upside the head.

"Ow!"

"I can still turn you into a toad. Or, you know, a girl."

"All bark and no bite, Merlin," said Will smugly, and yelped when Merlin promptly pushed him off his hay bale.

And that was how Hunith found them, laughing and covered in dust, Merlin's wings spread full span as he lay on the ground, his smile slowly fading from his face.

*


	2. part i

_**.i**_

"I could never have a friend who could be such an _ass._"

Merlin couldn't believe his eyes: the sheer _pratness _of the man made his wings want to shrivel up and all his feathers fall off. Merlin wanted to turn him into a toad, and wipe that smug grin off his face, or turn his hair blue or…the possibilities were endless.

"Nor I one who could be so stupid. Tell me, _Mer_lin. Do you know how to walk on your knees?"

Moments later, when his punch had gone wild and the Prince ("Who do you think you are, the King?", "No, I'm his son. Arthur,) had his arm twisted up behind his back. It was in that moment that the scene of the execution came back to Merlin with startling clarity; the face of the man accused of sorcery and the fall of the king's gloved hand – as he folded his wings as tight as possible to his back, trying to twist free, the faint outline of them pressed up against Arthur's shirt.

*

There was a bloody dragon under the castle.

It had an annoying voice which permanently suggested that he knew something Merlin didn't – and the worst thing was, thought Merlin bitterly, it was probably true. He shivered slightly in his thin coat, the torch held aloft. It was a small spark of light in the endless yawning blackness that was the cave.

The chains echoed as the dragon settle more comfortably on its perch, hunkering down on it's forelegs, claws long and wicked looking. Merlin thought it may have been smiling. He was distracted by all the iteeth./i

"That your's and Arthur's paths lie together is but the truth," proclaimed the Dragon mysteriously.

"Really," said Merlin, skeptical.

"The time will come, Young Warlock," said the Dragon, showing a singular talent for changing the subject, "You will grow into your wings, as it were."

Merlin's eyes boggled. "My…wait. How do iyou/i know about my wings?"

The Dragon looked amused.

"I know many things," it said smugly. Its wings, significantly bigger than Merlin's own, rustled in the dark in a leathery sound.

"Well, you're wrong about Arthur at any rate," said Merlin stubbornly, "He's such a prat I hope he drowns in his bath water and do us all a favour."

The Dragon laughed, the sound rattling through the cave like a rumble from the earth itself.

"Go now," it said, already turning away from Merlin, wings stretching out like sails, "Your destiny awaits."

Merlin waved his torch a little desperately. "Wait! Hey, I've still got- oi!"

The dragon had gone.

"Bugger it all," said Merlin.

*

Merlin watched the dagger spin for half a revolution before he reached out instinctively for his magic, time pulling like the slow drop of treacle as he dived forwards, yanking Arthur out of the path of danger so that they both fell backwards onto the hard stone floor –

The dagger quivered were it had sunk, inch deep into the back of the Prince's chair.

The King, dazed: "You must be rewarded,"

Merlin thought of bigger rooms, comfortable mattresses and perhaps unimaginable wealth. Or something.

"You shall become Arthur's manservant," announced the King who Beheaded Magical Beings.

_iWHAT?/i_

*

Of course, Gaius found out about his wings a week after Arthur killed Knight Valiant, the snake heads sitting in a jar on the Physicians shelf, fangs out and eyes glassy. It gave Merlin the creeps every time he had to venture into that particular corner of the room. True to form, the revelation was once again, by accident.

"Merlin! Wake up! You'll be late."

Merlin groaned and burrowed deeper into his blankets, ignoring the knocking as he always did. He had locked his bedroom door the night before, so there was no way he was going to wake up at this ungodly hour. He smirked into his pillows-

The door burst open and Merlin gave a yell of protest as his blanket was dragged off, cool air causing goose-bumps to rise on his arms, hands scrabbling for his sheets in the shocked silence that followed.

"Merlin, what's wrong with your back?"

_Crap._ "My back? What about my back? There's nothing wrong with my back. Is breakfast ready?"

"There's a lump. Take off your shirt and let me have a look at it."

"What- no, really, there's nothing-"

"Then you wouldn't mind me taking a look," interrupted Gaius, raising a terrible eyebrow, "I've been a physician for more years than you've been alive, Merlin. Trust me, I've seen everything."

Merlin hesitated, and then sighed in defeat. His mother had sent him here, after all, and he had to trust her judgment that Gaius wouldn't report him straight to the King. Did possessing wings come under sorcery? He was rather partial to his head. Because his head was still nicely attached to his neck.

Slowly, Merlin unlaced his nightshirt, fingers trembling slightly with nerves, and pulled it over his head. His wings unfurled to either side of his shoulders and he curled them towards his body instinctively, finding comfort in the soft feathers. Taking a deep breath, he looked up.

"My god," said Gaius.

*

_i"Am I a monster?"_

"_Never think that."/i_

*

"I did it. It was me, not Gwen. I'm the sorcerer."

His manservant looked out of breath, arms flung out in some absurd dramatic gesture. At his words, Gaius stood up, face drained of all colour and Arthur could see his father relax back into his chair, giving a lazy wave of his hand. The guards had already begun moving forward. Merlin slumped where he stood, looking both determined and defeated at the same time.

He couldn't let this go on. A fool Merlin maybe and useless he certainly was but Arthur wasn't about to let him be executed for some brief crush. Then he wondered when he had been so easily willing to sacrifice one life for another.

"He's in love," said Arthur, inserting as much exasperation as he could into his voice. Up close, Merlin looked exhausted, spots of colour high on his cheeks and hair sticking up all over the place.

"What?" protested Merlin, "No I'm not!"

But Arthur could tell that his father had been persuaded, as did the advisors who all settled back into their chairs, expressions indulgent. i_Young love,/i_ they will think, i_so sweet and so naïve. Bewitched by a sorceress, poor lad./i_

"Go to my chambers," said Arthur in an undertone, "Polish the windows, scrub the floors – whatever. But stay there until I return."

Merlin's face was mutinous, but Arthur pinned him with his most furious glare and he could see the fight going out of his manservant as the boy nodded and backed out of the hall.

In the end, though, everything was alright. Arthur killed the Afanc thanks to his unparalleled swordsmanship and Gwen was released from the dungeons once the water plagued disappeared. That night, he dreamt of the moment when Merlin had burst into the meeting hall, so willing to die for a girl he thought he loved. But this time, Arthur's protests ("Father, there is no way that Merlin could be a sorcerer!") fell on deaf ears and the guards dragged Merlin away. Gwen sobbed into Morgana's shoulder and he felt a surge of bitter, vindictive triumph.

Arthur woke with a gasp in the dark, drenched in cold sweat, ears echoing with the sound of Merlin's screams and the smell of choking woodsmoke and burnt flesh. He shivered and sank back into his pillows, and when morning broke, he couldn't remember the dream at all.

Later, much later, Arthur would wonder why he was so angry with deception when he was so eager to overlook the truth.

*

"Will you teach me how to fly?" asked Merlin once.

The Dragon's head snaked towards him until its great golden eye was close enough for Merlin to touch, the light of the flames reflected in the curved irises. It blinked, slowly. Merlin's wings fluttered beneath his shirt.

"Perhaps when you have found your other half," said the Dragon, and flew away.

*

Arthur wasn't sure when it had started: when Merlin's presence meant freedom, a brief escape from the expectations of the court and his father (Merlin seems to have no expectations of him whatsoever except that he would be a Prat) within his rooms. It all seemed to have come about out of nowhere, suddenly and overwhelmingly. The rude, blatant disregard for status and station was refreshing and in rare moments of sentiment, when Merlin would grumble and snark about Arthur's inability to do anything except Be A Prat but then go to the trouble of wheedling the cook for a good half hour so he could get strawberries which Arthur very much adored, Arthur wanted to tell him- _never change._

This whole trust business was rather fishy, Arthur thought, annoyed. Especially irritating as Arthur wouldn't trust Merlin with a pair of socks (truly. He had seen what could happen to such items of clothing under Merlin's care) but would trust him with his life. It really made no sense.

Then again, things which usually should have been straight forward rarely made a lick of sense around his manservant. For example, the sensible person should have tapped Arthur on the shoulder in a Discreet Fashion Appropriate For Servants and warned him quietly and left the political death match to more qualified people (e.g. your Prince). Or alternatively, Merlin could have told Gaius who was in a much better position to talk to the king – and not risking his head being chopped off. Much.

Of course, thought Arthur furiously, watching disaster unfold, Merlin did neither of these things, simply bursting into the feasting hall and accusing King Bayard of murder. His manservant really had a death wish, which was about to be granted as if the wine really turned out to be poisoned, Merlin would die. If Merlin was mistaken, Bayard would no doubt take pleasure in skewering Merlin through right there and then. It was a lose-lose situation if Arthur ever heard of one and as he watched Merlin defiantly throw back the goblet and gulp down every last drop, he wanted to kill something quietly.

The entire hall waited with baited breath as Merlin lowered the goblet. Distractedly, Arthur noticed he was no longer wearing The Hat.

"It's fine," he said at last.

Uther made a derisive sound and gestured to Bayard, "He's all yours."

Before Arthur could protest, Merlin made a choking noise, hand flying to his throat. And then he was toppling backwards, hitting the stone floor with a thud and the slow clack-clack-clack of the goblet as it rolled away across the flagstones. For a split second, everyone stood still in shock. Then the hall unfroze in a chaos of drawn swords.

Merlin's face was cold under his hand. Arthur had no recollection of moving forwards but he was on his knees beside Merlin and hauling him bodily over his shoulder even as Gaius said, "We need to get him to my chambers." Merlin was all bones and knees; head lolling limply against Arthur's back, breath hitching in fits and starts against the back of his neck.

His father: "I forbid you to leave this castle, Arthur!"

There had never really been a choice.

*

Merlin didn't know whether he was dreaming or hallucinating or perhaps those two things could be distinguishable. There was pain: it ate away at his body and his magic like thorny vines, slowly strangling him where he lay, trapped inside his own mind. In his dream, Arthur rode out on a quest to find him an antidote, meets an evil sorceress, defeats a magical beast and is trapped inside a dark spider infested cave. Merlin sent this dream-Arthur a ball of light, frantic as the scuttling of legs grow louder and louder and it got harder and harder to draw the next breath as the magic winks out in his hands and Arthur fades out of sight.

His wings lay crumpled beneath him, useless as ever.

*

When Arthur was released from his sojourn in the dungeons, he cornered the first serving girl he saw and demanded to know whether his "idiot of a manservant" was alive or not, heart in his throat. When the girl did not know, curtseying nervously in apology, Arthur took off at a run towards Gaius's rooms, only slowing when dread tugged at his sleeves. i_If Gwen had been too late…/i_

Then he rounded the corner to an open door and there was Merlin, covered in a thick rough blanket and hunched over a bowl of something steaming. He was still pale and peaky looking, circles dark under each eye but he was very much alive. Relief swept through Arthur's entire being, warm and sweet like a benediction.

"Still alive," said Merlin with a weak attempt at humor, "I understand I have you to thank for that."

Arthur shrugged, "It was nothing. Decent menservants are hard to come by." All the anger he had, any words he had wanted to shout – idon't ever do this again, you stupid fool, don't offer your life up on a platter as if it was worth nothing/i- had died in his throat. He hurriedly made his excuses to leave (being Prince was a busy occupation, despite what Merlin said) before he accidentally voiced any of this aloud. His debt was repaid; he could go with his honor satisfied. Yes.

Arthur reluctantly turned towards the door.

"Arthur," called Merlin. Arthur turned back. Merlin smiled. "Thank you."

*

Merlin's wings began to grow.

*

--

A/N: sorry for the formatting. I originally coded in all the italics and stuff in HTML, because this was originally for the LJ format, and I don't really have time to go back and change it all and make another copy. If it is too intrusive, poke me, and I'll make time, I guess. :P


	3. part ii

**.ii**

Merlin wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but his wings seemed to be getting bigger with every passing day. It cramped terribly after a day and he had to consciously remind himself to keep them tucked tight to his back, hot and sweaty in summer, warm in the autumn days. When, one morning, even his largest shirt failed to fit over the arch of the wings, he went to Gaius.

"When did they start growing again?" asked Gaius, stretching the left wing out and measuring it with a coil of tape.

Merlin shrugged. "I don't know…the past week or so?"

Gaius' eyebrows drew together alarmingly as he frowned and pushed and prodded Merlin's shoulder blades where the wings were attached like a second pair of arms.

"In short of cutting them off…" Merlin's face blanched, but Gaius continued, "Perhaps we must resort to magical means to hide your wings. A concealment spell perhaps?"

"But that could take days!" protested Merlin, "What should I do now?"

In the end, Gaius gave him a larger jacket to wear whilst Merlin wriggled and twisted his way into his tunic which now had two large slits in the back to let his wings through. The jacket was large and bulky enough to hide the wings. It was also very hot.

"Stop moving," scolded Gaius, as he adjusted the jacket.

"It's scratchy," Merlin sulked, shifting his wings unhappily beneath the heavy fabric. Gaius sighed.

"I guess that will have to do for now. In the meanwhile, ibe careful/i. You can collect supplies for me for the next few days until we find a solution. You'll be less likely to run into trouble in the forest."

*

The griffin was a problem, Merlin thought, desperately dodging behind a tree. He heard the scrape of claws across rough bark and the angry screech of the bird-beast as it spotted him and made a lunge for its lunch. Merlin dodged again, sprinting across a clearing, making for thicker forest where the beast hopefully couldn't maneuver through so easily, leaves crunching and slipping beneath his boot-

Merlin tripped on a tree root, and he went sprawling face first into the dirt, hastily turning himself around and scrambling backwards as the beast bore down on him, eyes flashing and its sharp beak open in a shriek. He was done for. Gaius' mushrooms were going to sit in the basket to rot; Arthur was going get killed next Tuesday by some evil revenge-bent sorcerer (Camelot seemed to have these in endless supply) and Merlin was going to get eaten.

He rolled to the right but couldn't quite avoid the downwards slash of claws as the beast made a grab for him. Merlin cried out as sharp claws ripped through his jacket and shirt, drawing blood, hooking him like a fish caught and it dragged him backwardsthrough the leaves. Twisting, he shook free of his jacket and escaped the Griffin's grasp as it tore the garment to shreds before leaping back towards its prey. Merlin jumped backwards, wings spread out for balance.

"Look," he shouted desperately, wings flapping, "We're practically family! You can't eat- ahhhhh!"

Just as he screwed his eyes shut, mind casting around desperately, blankly, for a spell that would help, he heard a battle cry to his left and a figure jumped in front of him. He wielded a sword, swinging and stabbing so fast the motion was a silver blur and Merlin quickly scrambled to his feet, still backing away as his rescuer dived forwards and thrust his sword towards the beast's chest. There was a strange clashing sound, like fingernails screeching and magic flaring hot- and the metal blade shattered. The stranger and beast both paused for a split second in surprise before the man turned and Merlin had barely registered his face before the man grabbed him by the arm and they were sprinting for their lives the bird hot on their heels.

"Run, run, run!" he shouted over the screaming of the griffin, "Come on!"

Branches tore at their ankles and they leapt over a fallen tree (the stranger leapt, Merlin scrambled) and the man pushed them both down behind it. The Griffin, still moving at full velocity, the ground thundering beneath its claws –or hooves?- gave an irritated shriek before taking off over their heads, tawny wings snapping out in a rush of air. Its cries grew fainter and fainter as it became just a blotted shadow in the sky, whilst Merlin's heart still thumped triple time against his ribcage. He rubbed a hand over his face, breathing deeply and trying to come down from the rush of adrenaline and fear.

Merlin felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up.

"Are you alright?"

The man had a kind expression – that was the first thing Merlin noticed. Long dark hair and skin brown from the sun. His clothes were rough and he bore no colours Merlin could recognize- not a knight then- but he was clean shaven. Strong chiseled jaw line… Merlin shook himself mentally and blinked several times. When he failed to reply, the man held out his hand.

"I'm Lancelot," he said.

"Merlin," replied Merlin, "Thanks for-" he gestured vaguely with his hands, "-saving my life. And stuff."

The man- Lancelot- laughed. It was a loud laugh, unguarded and probably coming down from the high of a chase.

"And stuff," he agreed.

The simply sat there, staring up at the sky until their heart rates returned back to normal. The companionable silence was broken when Lancelot said casually,

"You have wings."

Merlin's eyes widened and he winched in his wings guiltily, eyes darting around the forest.

"Uh…" he made to stand up but Lancelot pushed down on his knee and he sat back down with a dejected thump.

"Don't worry," he said earnestly, "If it is your secret, I will take it to my grave."

Merlin eyed him warily, but the man ihad/I just saved his life. Merlin iwanted/i to trust him.

"Thank you," he said again, smiling widely, feeling a weight lift from his chest.

"I think they're magnificent. It is a pity you have to hide them," said Lancelot. His voice was so sincere it made Merlin blush and his ears turn red. He pulled at one of his longer feathers self consciously.

"They're a bit on the small side…" he said, doubtfully, echoing Will.

Lancelot chuckled at the expression on Merlin's face.

"Are you on your way to Camelot?" asked Merlin, changing the subject.

"Yes. The castle, actually. These woods are the fastest route. What were you doing so deep in the woods?"

Merlin waved a hand.

"Collecting stuff for Gaius. He's the court physician and I help, sometimes, like an apprentice. But I'm Arthur's manservant most of the time. And when I say 'manservant', I mean boot-cleaner."

"You live in the castle?" asked Lancelot, eyes bright with enthusiasm.

Merlin grinned.

*

When Merlin failed to show up with Arthur's clean armour, the Prince of Camelot was not Pleased. He stopped a serving girl in the corridors.

"Have you seen my useless manservant, by chance?"

The girl curtsied.

"No, sire."

Arthur humphed.

When Merlin failed to show up with Arthur's dinner, the Prince of Camelot decided enough was enough. He stormed through the castle, ready to go to Gaius' chambers drag Merlin out by the ear when, from the vantage point of one of the larger windows, he spotted a commotion by the castle gates. Unlatching the window and throwing it open, he narrowed his eyes as he spotted the bright red of a kerchief and a mop of familiar dark hair. Slamming the window back shut, Arthur made his way out of the castle.

"What's going on here?" he demanded when he reached them.

Merlin's face lit up with he saw Arthur. Arthur scowled. The guard bowed briefly.

"Sire, the boy wants to allow this man entry into the castle but no one recognizes him, sire and he is not here to petition."

It was only then that Arthur noticed the man standing behind his manservant. His manservant who was bristling indignantly at the guard's words.

"Honestly! He's a friend of mine, I don't think-"

"Precisely Merlin," interrupted Arthur smoothly, "you idon't/i think. Who is this man?"

"Lancelot. He saved my life," answered Merlin promptly, beaming at his savior in a way that made Arthur's stomach tighten with something sour. He ignored it. Merlin was being a girl, as usual.

"That," said Arthur "Is not at all out of the ordinary. You are such a useless idiot you delight in giving away the opportunity."

Merlin, as usual, was not fazed by Arthur's insults. "He fights really well," his manservant continued like the girl he was. "He," said Merlin, looking at the guard pointedly, "Is just being an annoying-"

Arthur threw up his hands, "Let them through," he said to the guard.

Merlin beamed at him and promptly keeled over.

"Merlin!"

Lancelot caught him before he hit the ground and Arthur stamped down the sudden spiral of fear that had risen in his throat and knelt down beside them. He placed a hand on Merlin's brow, frowning, then made to lift him out of his jacket but Lancelot stopped him.

"What the hell?" said Arthur incredulously, glaring at the man who still had his wrist in a firm grip, "You can't-"

He stopped when he saw the blood.

"We need to get him to Gaius," said Arthur, lifting the slashed tunic. There were two shallow wounds- slashes- running from collarbone to ribs, dried blood smeared everywhere. "What happened?" He reached out for his manservant but the man put an arm under the crook of Merlin's knees and stood, holding the boy in a bridal carry. His head lolled as they walked.

"We were attacked by a beast, sire," said Lancelot, "A griffin. Winged and vicious. It must have injured Merlin before I came."

Moments later, Arthur flung open the physician's door, startling Gaius who was at the workbench, something bubbling, curling purple and lilac smoke into the air.

"Merlin's hurt," said Arthur unnecessarily, "I don't know how much blood he's lost but-"

With nothing more than a brief, curious glance at Lancelot, Gaius said, "Put him on the cot. Over there."

"We were attacked by a winged beast- a Griffin," supplied Lancelot helpfully, "About…two hours ago now."

Arthur rounded on the man.

"How could you not notice him bleeding out in front of you?"

"I-"

Gaius interrupted them both with a sharp rap of knuckles on wood.

"Out. Both of you."

"But Merlin-"

"I'll send him to you as soon as he is able sire. Right now, I need privacy to tend to the patient."

Arthur quailed under the eyebrow arch. Maybe insubordination was contagious, he thought irritably. He glared at Lancelot instead, pinning him with a steely look.

"Right then. Send for me as soon as he wakes."

"Yes, sire," said Gaius, with a note of impatience in his tone.

Arthur couldn't believe he was being thrown out of the physicians' rooms. He couldn't believe he was getting thrown out of iany/i room, period.

"You," he said to Lancelot, "Come with me."

*

"I came to be a Knight, sire," said Lancelot, his head bowed.

Arthur regarded him for a moment.

"You fought off a Griffin, you said."

"Yes, sire."

"Well, I guess I owe you this much for saving my worthless manservant. Meet me tomorrow morning on the training grounds with your seal of nobility."

At this, Lancelot looked up.

"Seal of nobility?"

"Yes," said Arthur, mentally rolling his eyes, "The first code. Only nobility can become knights. You are a nobleman, aren't you?"

*

When Merlin woke, he was in his own bed again; a light blanket pulled up to his chin and his wings loose and unfolded. He blinked blearily, the room hazy and foggy. Turning his head, he could make out the silhouette of a figure, slumped in a seat beside his bed.

"Arthur?" he tried, voice dry and croaky with sleep. The figure jerked awake. Merlin rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, and the man came into focus. It was Lancelot.

"He was here when you were sleeping. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," said Merlin truthfully, trying to sit up. "What happened?"

"You passed out," said Lancelot, "Gaius said it was more exhaustion than blood loss. Too much excitement for one day, being nearly eaten."

Merlin flopped back onto his pillow.

"Where's Arthur? Did you get to talk to him?"

At this, Lancelot looked away.

"Yes."

"And…?" prompted Merlin, a sinking feeling in his chest.

"According to the First Code of Camelot, only those of noble birth can become Knights. I am but a peasant."

Merlin sat upright so fast his head spun.

"What? What? That's not fair!" he said, gesturing with his arms. His wings snapped out simultaneously, knocking the jug of water on his bedside cabinet. Lancelot managed to catch it before the jug shattered, placing it back on the table. Merlin looked guiltily at the puddle on the floor.

"Oops," he said, "I'm not used to moving around with them out."

Lancelot laughed softly, and leaned back in his chair. There was a pause.

"It's not fair," said Merlin once more, "I'll talk to Arthur- uh, I mean the Prince- in the morning. I'm sure I can persuade him, he's a prat most days but he's alright underneath."

"Even he can't change the codes that govern-"

"Why not?" exclaimed Merlin, then in a lower voice, "He's the prince! Top of the food chain, and everything. Well, except the King, I suppose. I'll talk to him. The prince, I mean."

"Alright," said Lancelot, "I can see you're not to be persuaded."

"No, I'm not," said Merlin, giving him a cheeky grin. "And plus-"

"Merlin," called Gaius from outside the door, "Stop talking. You need rest."

*

Having been unconscious for most of the afternoon and night, Merlin had had no time to do magical research and come up with a spell which could allow him to conceal his wings. He had to borrow another jacket from Gaius ("It's my last one. Do not get it destroyed, Merlin.") in order to serve Arthur breakfast. It turned out that he didn't need to broach the subject of Knighthood with Arthur at all.

"Why are you wearing that winter coat, Merlin?"

Merlin set the breakfast plates on the table in front of Arthur and passed him his clothes, laid out on the chair beside his bed.

"Because it's cold?" he tried.

Arthur gave him the 'you are an idiot' look.

"You're cold. Really."

"Yep," said Merlin cheerfully, pulling aside the heavy drapes with a flourish. Sunlight poured in, making Arthur wince at the brightness. Merlin smirked.

"Is that mental affliction of yours catching, do you think?" asked Arthur, reaching for the slices of ham and soft bread.

"Hmm?" said Merlin non-committally.

"Because that peasant friend of yours, Spear-a lot-"

"Lancelot," corrected Merlin, frowning.

Arthur waved a half eaten bun. "Whatever. He wanted to be a Knight. Peasants. Knights. Honestly."

Merlin's frown deepened.

"What's wrong with a peasant being a Knight?" he asked, "He's a good fighter, better than some of those recruits I've seen you train. How is that fair? Why do ithey/i get to be knights but Lancelot doesn't even get a shot? "

"iMer/ilin," said Arthur patiently, "The First Code of Camelot-"

"I know what the code says," said Merlin, "And it's bollocks."

"Be that as it may, I can't change the laws."

"Why not?" asked Merlin stubbornly, "Surely you could just let him have a chance? Let him have a fair shot at it! Once everyone sees how good he is, then you can-"

"Merlin! I understand that you are infatuated with this Lancelot," snapped Arthur, and Merlin felt his ears turn red, "but the code is the code and I cannot make exceptions. My iFather/i would never make exceptions."

"But-"

"No, Merlin. End of discussion."

Indignance bubbled hot in Merlin's chest, his lips pulled thin with anger.

"You're a royal Prat, sire," he said quietly.

Arthur sighed, and he looked as if he was going to say something but the moment stretched on into tense silence.

"Go clean out my stables. Then come to the training grounds to collect my armour after practice."

Merlin left without a word.

*

It was a simple concealment spell- well, it looked simple enough- that needed no potion or special herb. The only requirement was that it had to be cast under moonlight the hour before dawn. Merlin shivered in his thin nightshirt. He had left the coat off so he could see whether the spell worked when he cast it. The brown jacket lay, discarded on the dew wet grass a little distance away.

The moon was still bright in the sky, the first light of dawn not yet peeking over the horizon. It was the third night in a row of failed attempts and Merlin spread his wings out under the pitch sky, closing his eyes and concentrating.

He whispered the spell beneath his breath, voice growing stronger with each failed repetition.

His down feathers fluttered in the night breeze, and he could feel the magic curling up within him, tendrils curving without direction. His forehead furrowed, and he continued to chant the spell-

When dawn came, Merlin pulled the jacket back over his wings and trudged back up to the castle.

*

"I don't understand," he said for the millioneth time, turning round and round in front of a small glass mirror, his wings very very visible, "I pronounced everything correctly I'm sure of it. Why isn't the spell working?"

Gaius was bent over a large dusty tome, glasses supported by a forefinger.

"Perhaps we need to try an alternative. What about this one?"

As Merlin crossed the room to look over Gaius's shoulder, there came a soft knock on the door. Before either of them could do anything, Gwen came into the room. Merlin froze, his wings quivering behind him.

"Gwen," said Gaius nervously, "What's the matter?"

Gwen smiled at Merlin, before turning back to the physician.

"Morgana still isn't sleeping well," she said, her hands wringing in distress, "She says the potions aren't working. Don't you have anything else you could give her? She doesn't complain but she tosses and turns all night and I'm just so worried-"

"Tell Morgana I'll give her a new potion tonight," Gaius said, ushering a bewildered Gwen towards the door, "Perhaps this new remedy will work better."

"Yes- I- thank you," said Gwen and the last they see is her confused face as Gaius closes the door with a snap. Merlin is still frozen by the book. Gaius eyed Merlin with a shrewd look.

"Does Gwen know about-"

"No! Of course she doesn't!"

They both stared at Merlin's wings.

"I guess the spell worked then," said Merlin hopefully.

"Yes…" replied Gaius thoughtfully, "It seems that to those who do not know the truth cannot isee/i. But you must be careful, Merlin. If this is true, then whoever knows your secret can reveal it to the rest of Camelot."

*

In the end, Merlin finds a spell to kill the Griffin. It has already killed 5 of Arthur's knights and they decided to mount the offensive, tracking the beast to the fringe of a nearby forest, just outside of the lower city. When Merlin and Lancelot arrive, travelling a little way behind Arthur's entourage, there are bodies littered everywhere, limp and unmoving. Merlin's eyes found Arthur's golden hair immediately; a figure slumped on a slope behind a fallen tree.

"Arthur!" cried Merlin, running towards him and skidding on his knees. His fumbling hands found a pulse, beating steadily, at Arthur's throat and another quick check told Merlin there was no broken bones. Relief washed over him even as the ear splitting shriek of the Griffin pierced the silence as the beast returned.

The thud of hooves could be heard as Lancelot cantered away from the Griffin, hoisting his Lance to shoulder height. The horse reared onto its hind legs with a loud whinny and then they charged.

"i_Eoch bora/i,"_ Merlin chanted, hand outstretched. "i_Eoch bora, Eoch bora, Eoch bora/i."_

Lancelot and his steed rushed past him at a gallop, the lance held steady in the knight's hand. The Griffin shrieked once more, rushing and galloping on all fours also, the thundering of the ground making the trees around Merlin shake. Merlin

He chanted more desperately as they neared each other, neither slowing-

"i_Eoch bora, Eoch bora, Eoch bora!/i"_

Nothing happened. The Griffin's beak opened in a terrible maw.

"No!"

Something within Merlin shifted. It was as if there was something waking up within his mind, flaring hot and filling his eyes with gold, gold, gold-

Blue fire came to life around the tip of the lance, spreading down the length as Lancelot collided with the Griffin, driving the pointed tip deep through the beast's throat. It screamed with its last breath, the magic winking out and plunging the scene into darkness once more as the griffin collapsed to the forest floor with an almighty icrash/i.

Lancelot's horse came trotting back towards Merlin, and the knight threw off his helmet, his grin mirroring the one on Merlin's face as Merlin grabbed at his own hair in hysterical relief.

"You did it!" he said, laughing uncontrollably, "Oh my god, you did it!"

"You mean, you did it."

Merlin's laughter petered out. "What?"

"Your magic. I heard you, and that blue fire- well, I know I didn't do it. And everyone else seems to be unconscious."

Merlin's face drained of all colour.

Lancelot tapped one mailed finger to his breastplate.

"Don't worry. Your secrets are safe with me."

Merlin breathed out again. He thought his heart might burst soon under all the stress and threat of execution. But for now, life was on his side. A groan came through the air, and Arthur struggled to sit up. Merlin rushed to his side, veins still thrumming with magic. For a moment, he thought Arthur might have overheard the entire exchange- but one look at his blown pupils told Merlin he was at the very least, slightly concussed.

"Merlin?" said the prince, his voice slurring slighting, "Why are you glowing?" then passed out again, a dead weight in Merlin's arms.

*

A/N: Okay. Firstly, I realise that the spell I used isn't the spell that Merlin used but right now, I can't find that that spell *is* - google and merlin wiki have not been helpful- so I used this one instead, which Merlin uses in the Nimueh episode. I think. Also, I know it's a rather strange place to end, but otherwise, you'll never get updates. I'm trying to get as much of this written as possible in the next two weeks before my life gets hectic, yeah? :P This is completely unedited, so point out any typos or weird bitts- apologies for the bad writing. Very rusty.

Please comment. Crit is improvement. :D


	4. part iii

**.iii**

When Merlin was six, he made Will a pendant to wear off harm and bad luck. It was made of dark, sanded wood off an age-old oak at near the fringe of the forest Ealdor was nestled against. As Hunith absolutely refused him anything remotely dangerous (this ranged from sharp objects to feeding the chickens) he had to find some other way to shape it.

Even as a small child, Hunith had discouraged him from playing with the other village children. Something about his wings being a secret and his magic even more so. They were strange. And Ealdor didn't like strange things – it liked the ordinary, the mundane and it was best if every day was like yesterday. She didn't exactly keep him in the house – but frowned worriedly every time he disappeared from her sight, so Merlin, wanting ever to please his mother, obeyed. It didn't help. The other children thought him strange for it, quiet until he started talking and then he didn't stop. They laughed at his pasty complexion and his large ears and Merlin thought that wings wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway.

Will was his best- and only- friend. He deserved something Very Nice for his birthday.

Merlin stood beneath the trees, his magic stirring, always eager to leap out of his skin; uncontrolled and wild, gold and dusty on his fingertips as he pressed both palms to the wood of the oak. The tree seemed to chuckle, leaves a sea of rustling in the summer air. An acorn dropped and hit his head. _Something…something…  
_  
And out of the trunk it came, slowly, slowly, like the growth of the tree itself, emerging like a fruit from the face of the bark. He wasn't quite sure what it was, his magic shaping the wood as if it had a mind of its own. Merlin knew no spells – only the whispering of the forest in a language he didn't know but felt as if he had simply forgotten, like one waking from a pleasant dream. The earth called his name, beckoning with curled fronds and benignly swaying branches and Merlin pulled at the magic, pulled and pushed it into the oak. Then with a creak and a pop, the wooden bauble dropped into Merlin's cupped hands.

It was intricate like nothing his young eyes had ever seen, tiny wooden leaves wound around miniature wooden branches in a tangle that formed a water drop. He took it home with him, after thanking the tree, found a piece of black leather string in his box of Things and threaded it through. Then he wrapped it up in a scrap piece of cloth and hid it away.

When he gave it to Will a week later, Will laughed at him then teased him, calling him a girl.

Merlin snatched the necklace back, wings and bottom lip quivering with hurt and anger.

"I hate you," he said, face hot with embarrassment, "And I didn't want you to have it anyway."

Will stopped laughing and stared at him for a moment, looking guilty.

"Come on, Merl. I was just joking. Give it here."

"No."

"It's my birthday present!"

"Not anymore."

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? Really."

Merlin glared at him, though the effect was lost when his fringe of hair got into his eyes and he had to rub at them to get the itchy feeling away. He held out the necklace by its cord, silently. Will took it, immediately looping it around his neck. The pendant hung there on his chest, the string a little too long.

"It's like, a protection charm," said Merlin.

Will looked up.

"I'll wear it forever," said Will, and then ruined it by adding, "Until it falls off anyway. T'string isn't very strong is it?"

*

Merlin had never, ever forgotten about the incident with the rabbit, and true to his promise to Hunith, he had never tried to heal animals again. Arthur, however, was a different matter altogether.

Merlin often doubted how much Arthur actually enjoyed the tournaments. Between the king's unreachable standards and the expectations of the entire court and audience, Merlin thought Arthur should have collapsed from the stress already. In the days preceding the competition, Arthur would rise earlier than Merlin, often skipping breakfast if his manservant was (inevitably) late. His shoulders would be in a permanent, tense line and he would act more of a prat than usual.

"Don't you get nervous?" Merlin asked once, sneaking a look at Arthur's face as put on his armour.

"I never get nervous," the prince had replied stiffly.

"Really? Because I thought everyone-"

"Merlin!" exclaimed Arthur, a vein throbbing, "Shut up!"

As Gaius's apprentice, he would stand with the physician at the edge of the arena, ready to help the injured. Personally, Merlin thought it all a bit brutal and the crowd's bloodlust a little too strong but he couldn't help feeling a swell of pride and giddy happiness every time Arthur slammed his defeated opponent into the dirt, cheering loudly along with the rest of the crowd. This happened rather often, and he didn't have to worry about Arthur getting mortally wounded. Usually.

Today was different though.

"Sire, you have to let me tend to the wound," said Gaius urgently.

Arthur winced and waved him away with a jerky motion of the gauntlet.

"Don't. It's just a scratch."

Over his shoulder, Merlin could see the time-keeper holding the large hourglass horizontally, ready to begin again once the time out was over. Arthur's opponent was drinking out of a large water skin, spilling droplets everywhere. Merlin reached for Arthur's right side, where the sword had nicked his thigh where the mail shirt ended. He could see a wet stain of blood, dark and red.

"Leave it Merlin!" said Arthur irritably, glugging his own water. Merlin persisted. Arthur whacked the top of his head.

"Ow!"

"I said leave it!"

Taking a deep breath, Merlin placed three fingers on the gash. Magic welled up in his chest.

"It's alright Gaius, Arthur's-" he stifled a gasp of pain, "-right. It's just a scratch."

Arthur gave him a grateful glance before striding back into the arena to loud cheers from the crowd. Banners and ribbons fluttered high in the wind and the time keeper tipped over the hour glass with a flourish.

Merlin knew Arthur would never back down, even if his entire leg had been hacked off. His father's pride was far too important to him to risk, though Merlin sadly. And what was important to Arthur was important to Merlin – even if the warlock didn't agree. Sometimes, he wished Arthur didn't care so much about what his Father thought so he could see how much others loved him. But the prince would do anything for the approval and affection of a distant father and an even more distant King.

That afternoon, after Arthur had won the day's rounds and Merlin had helped him out of his amour and drawn him a bath, Merlin limped back to Gaius' chambers.

*

Will gave Merlin a kerchief, bright red with green thread, for his seventh birthday.

Merlin knotted it around his neck like a scarf and Will's pendant reflected the warm sun like amber.

*

Gaius did not know what was wrong with the Lady Morgana and Merlin could tell the King was going to snap soon. His brow was thunder dark with worry, and the tension in the room was almost tangible. Morgana lay still as death in a sea of white linen and silk blankets. And Merlin could not tell what was _wrong_ with her except the faintest suggestion of-

"…magic, sire," said Gaius gravely. Merlin pulled himself back to the scene at hand, eyes flickering between Gaius and the king and then to Arthur, standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed and expression dark. Gwen hovered, fretting. He itched to lay a hand on her cheek and heal her with his particular brand of magic…but without knowing what was ailing her, he could very well die. Or worse.

"Are you sure?"

"No. I need to conduct more tests before I am sure. We may be able to find a cure for her."

"Then you will make haste," said Uther, in dismissal, returning to his ward's bedside.

All Merlin heard was the distracting magic as it _scuttled._

*

The first time Merlin saw the scarred man, it was standing by Gaius in the king's council chambers. The man had been granted audience after he had sought out Arthur, claiming he had a cure for all ills. Merlin stared at the man in fascination, his scars at once horrendous and unforgettable.

"Well, without seeing the patient…" he finished, trailing off. In the past few minutes, he had bowed at least eight times. Merlin was counting. The King, desperate now to save his only ward, gave him permission immediately to see to Morgana. Beside Merlin, Gaius was frowning in a way that drew his eyebrows simultaneously together and up.

"What's wrong?" asked Merlin in a hushed tone.

"I'm almost sure I recognize this Edwin Muirden," said Gaius, "But I can't quite recall where…"

"Really?" said Merlin, interested. A pause. "Is it really possible to create a cure for everything?"

Gaius looked grave.

"I don't know, Merlin. I don't know."

For a strange, impossible moment, Merlin wondered if his wings were something that could be cured.

*

The scuttling and the wrongness of the echoing magic nagged at Merlin for the rest of the day whilst he did all the chores Arthur threw at him in a fit of bad temper. Merlin knew he was worried for Morgana, even after she had been miraculously cured by Edwin. The suspicious niggling at the base of Merlin's spine simply would not go away, itching at his wings.

There was really only one thing to do.

After all of Arthur's swords in the armory were shining (he may have used a little magic to speed up the process) he wiped his hands on the surface of his breeches and went inside the castle. Only one wrong turn later, Merlin arrived at the door of Edwin's door, shut and locked. Looking quickly up and down the deserted corridor, he passed a palm over the gap in the doorway, imagining the lock turning…turning-  
The handle gave a satisfying click as his eyes flashed gold and the door opened silently on well oiled hinges.

_Be stealthy_, Merlin thought to himself. _Stealthy…  
_  
The room bore similarities to Gaius's chambers, though it was tidier. There were less papers strewn around, everything lined up on one large wooden table near the far end of the room. Cautiously, Merlin inched forwards into the room, wings slightly spread as he walked quickly across the room, past a long travel stained clock hung on the back of a chair.

Light filtered through the two large windows, reflecting off the strange apparatus on Edwin's desk and countless polished metal surfaces. There were books and other boring things, but Merlin was drawn to the tall, spindly instruments gilded in gold. There were fine glass tubing and small, sparkling crystal bottles. He was almost holding his breath as he bent closer to the delicate metal levers and things that turned with a whirr when Merlin touched them with a curious finger. Then he came to a carved wooden box and his hands paused, instinct twitching it's ears. He lifted the lid.

Beetles. Dark, small – they came alive suddenly and the grating of their scuttling seemed to be too loud to be normal, Merlin wanted to throw the box against the wall and shatter it, drown them-

"What are you doing?" came an unfamiliar voice just behind him and Merlin closed the box with a sharp _snap_ and whirled around.

"I. Er. Sorry, I just-" Oh gods, he couldn't lie to save his life- literally even, to _save his life.  
_  
But Edwin's scarred features abruptly twisted themselves into an indulgent smile, and he reached past Merlin's arm (Merlin suppressed a flinch) and righted one of the golden instruments Merlin had been fiddling with moments before.

"Saw something you like?" he asked, gesturing at his apparatus. Merlin's mind was still frozen at the shock of being discovered. When he didn't reply, Edwin continued.

"It was all originally designed for alchemy."

Merlin's ears perked up. "Making gold?"

Edwin's smile widened. "You have an interest in science?"

"Well," said Merlin shrugging, "Science is knowledge."

"It has the answers to everything," said Edwin but in a strange tone. Merlin couldn't decide whether he was agreeing with him or testing him.

"Maybe," said Merlin, "But it can't explain love." _where had that come from?_ thought Merlin, eyes widening. Edwin chuckled, as if aware that Merlin didn't mean to say the last bit out loud.

"So you're in love."

"No," said Merlin quickly, "I mean, feelings and emotions. You know."

There was a pause. Merlin kept his eyes firmly on the bright glass bottles on the table.

"You seem too bright to be just a servant."

Merlin laughed, embarrassed but pleased at the compliment.

"Oh, don't be fooled. I'm not that bright."

Since Edwin didn't seem to mind, he played with one of the golden levers for a bit, watching the compressor inside a clasped glass vial go up and down, up and down, up and-

One of the bottles – full of sparkling blue sand, suddenly tipped over with a soft _click_ against the wooden table. It happened so quickly Merlin wasn't sure what had happened but one moment everything was still and the next, blue sand was spilling across the table.

"Oh, no- sorry I must have," floundered Merlin, trying to sweep the sand back into the bottle with cupped hands.

Edwin said nothing for a few seconds, then:

"I think we both know you can clean that up much more quickly," said Edwin, a smile in his voice. Merlin froze.

"Er. I can?"

Edwin cocked an eyebrow, the expression disconcerting upon his scarred face and with a murmured word, the blue sand twisted and swirled through the air, nearly back into the bottle. Merlin stared, shocked.

"You're a sorcerer!" he exclaimed.

"So are you," replied Edwin, calmly. "Aren't you? I've been watching. I know."

"I don't know what you're talking about," denied Merlin, desperately. Should he run, before he could call the guards?

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Don't worry. I'm sure we can keep each other's secrets, hmm?"

Merlin nodded mutely.

"After all, in these difficult times…we must look after each other, Merlin. I could teach you." At these words, Edwin floated the dust back into the air, made them swirl in dazzling patterns that made Merlin's head spin then set fire to them, flame that only tingled pleasant warm when it floated over to settle on Merlin's palm before the golden sparks winked out. Edwin's hand left his shoulder and he made his way slowly around the desk to face Merlin.

"I could teach you everything I know, teach you how to _use_ magic instead of reading about it in dusty books. We could help each other."

"You'll teach me about magic?" asked Merlin, warily.

For a split second, Merlin thought he saw something like surprise flicker through the sorcerer's eyes. Then it darkened to something much more dangerous before his face reverted back to the kind, smiling expression of a second before. The reaction was puzzling. Merlin blinked.

"If you like. Now, perhaps you could help me with some gathering of supplies tomorrow? Only if you're not too busy with Gaius, that is…"

Merlin grinned, "No, I'm sure Gaius won't mind."

Edwin inclined his head a fraction.

"Perfect. Off you go then; I have some work to do."

"Can't I help?" asked Merlin hopefully, looking at the golden instruments, their gleaming levers and buttons.

Edwin smiled. "It's nothing interesting I'm afraid. We can start on that tomorrow."

"Okay," said Merlin slightly disappointed, "I'll see you tomorrow then."

He turned and left the sorcerer's chambers, closing the doors carefully behind him, feeling light with excitement.

Long after he had gone, Edwin Muirden stared thoughtfully at the mirror that hung opposite the windows; where in two white wings had been clearly reflected, arching from Merlin's shoulder blades.

*

_"Uther will be furious when he finds out who you are."  
"Fine. Fine. Shall we tell him? Let's go and tell him. Let's tell him. Let's tell him everything. Oh, I know. We could also tell him about Merlin."  
"Merlin?"  
" You didn't know he was a sorcerer? Ah. I wonder what Uther will do. Probably have him… burnt."_

_"You would betray another sorcerer?"_

_"You did, when you turned a blind eye and let my parents die at the hand of Uther! At least Merlin doesn't have a son who will try to rescue him from the flames."_

_"You're here to take revenge?"_

_"Well. Among other things."_

*

Merlin couldn't believe this was happening. On hindsight, many years later, he would wonder how he could have been so naïve, so eager to trust, so easily manipulated by kind words.

"But you tried to save Morgana!" said Merlin, horrified, "Uther can't do this to you!"

Gaius only looked sad and very tired.

"Uther's not to blame."

Merlin stood up from his chair, upsetting his spoon on the table and it clattered to the ground. He didn't spare it a glance.

"I'll speak to Edwin. You can work together-"

Gaius' voice was suddenly stern, "No, you mustn't do anything."

Merlin stared at him, incredulous.

"I can't stand by and do nothing! This is unfair!"

"Uther's right," said Gaius, "It's time I stepped down."

Merlin shook his head, dazed.

"What are you going to do?"

"I cannot stay here when there's no longer a use for me."

Merlin's heart clenched, cold and sick. He fought to get the words past the lump in his throat.

"You're not l-leaving?"

"I believe it's for the best," said Gaius.

"Then I'll come with you!"

"Merlin, you're like a son to me," said Gaius, expression soft, "I never expected such a blessing so late in life."

Merlin kept his eyes wide. If he kept the open, perhaps the tears gathering in the corners won't fall.  
"And you are more than a father-"

"Then as a father, I must tell you, you must remain here. Camelot is where you belong."

"But I don't want-"

"You have a gift. A destiny to fulfil. You must promise me you won't let it go to waste."

Merlin shook his head. He was very so very sick of hearing the words 'destiny' and 'should' when all he ever wanted-

"No. No, don't leave, I need you to teach me, I-"

"I'm afraid I'm leaving here tonight, Merlin, and there's nothing you can do or say that can persuade me otherwise."

Merlin had never known his real father- Hunith had never mentioned him and refused to answer any questions and naturally he assumed that his father had left them –one way or another-, perhaps even before he was born. Then his mother had sent him to Camelot, far, far away from her without any promise of coming back. And Merlin simply did not understand what was wrong with himself, where he disappointed, and why both his fathers found it so easy to leave.

*

The great dragon shifted on his rocky perch.

"No, it is my jailer who stands in peril."

"Must Uther be sacrificed for the boy?"

"Their time cannot come until his is past," said the Dragon in a rare moment of clarity.

"But is that time now?"

The dragon chuckles. It is a hideous sound, grating across the stony cavern.

"That is of _your choosing._"

The court physician straightened as much as he could to his full height.

"I will not choose between them."

"Then turn a blind eye. That is, after all, your talent."

*

_  
"You will die, slowly, painfully. And I can only regret that I will not be here to see you draw your last breath."_

_  
Uther did not reply. Could not reply._

_  
Edward tucked the wooden box back within the folds of his cloak._

_  
"Did you know Camelot was harbouring an angel, my Lord? With your death, magic will return to this land."_

*

Arthur cornered him as he came through the archway, the morning's stack of clean sheets piled high in his arms, running so fast he nearly bowled Merlin over.

"Merlin! Come quickly. My father has caught Morgana's illness!"

Merlin dropped everything he was carrying and sprinted after his prince.

"Send for the physician!" Arthur shouted as they passed some servants in the corridor, flattening themselves against the stone walls to get out of their way. "Send for him now!"

The torches flickered wildly, throwing chaotic shadows as they ran around the last corner and came to the double doors of the King's private chambers. The door burst open with a crash and they tumbled into the room. The king lay on his pillows of red and gold brocade, still as death.

"He won't wake, no matter what I do," said Arthur urgently. "Merlin, stay here while I go and find Edwin. Try to wake my father." And with that, he was back out the door, and Merlin could hear his running footsteps and voice yelling for the physician. He turned back to Uther.

Perhaps he should just let him die… After all, wasn't this the king that had sentenced countless others, innocents, to death? He would send Merlin into the fires without a second thought. Merlin could do the same.

Couldn't he?

Shouldn't he?

Merlin's head hurt. His eyes were red rimmed from a night of fitful sleeping, and he was aware that any moment now, Arthur will be back, and then Merlin wouldn't be able to save Uther with magic, even if he wanted to. He thought back to Gaius' last warnings of Edwin, of scuttling and magic and black-eyed beetles in wooden boxes.

He thought of Arthur and Kings and Fathers.

Taking a breath to steady himself, hesitantly, Merlin reached forwards, cupping hands around the temples of the king, letting his magic well up within him like water from a spring. If it was poison, he could draw it out, literally, with his magic- remove it from the bloodstream like pulling a stray thread from a silk kerchief. If it was malignant magic, Merlin didn't really have much experience with it…perhaps he could right it somehow. A noise. The scuttling and scratching grew louder in Merlin's head until he wanted to scream with it, until…

A beetle crawled out of Uther's left ear and into Merlin's hand. He stilled it without a thought. Merlin felt dizzy, like he had been holding his breath for too long and had forgotten how to breathe, the details in front of him swimming out of focus.

He barely registered Arthur's presence at his side until the prince was shaking him by the shoulders.

"Merlin. Hey, hey- are you alright?"

Merlin gazed at Arthur blankly for a moment before he slowly returned back inside his own head, his magic thrumming beneath his skin, concentrated and hot where Arthur's hand brushed his collarbone.

"What?"

"I've been calling for the last-"

"Arthur," said a voice. It was Uther.

"Father?" Arthur was at his side in an instant, "Father you're-"

"Fine," said the King, struggling to sit up, "I'm fine."

"But how-" Arthur turned to Merlin, "What did you give him?"

Merlin hesitated, then said, "One of Gaius' tinctures…Sire, I think it was Edwin who- I mean, the current court physician-"  
Uther held up a hand and Merlin fell silent at once.

"I know. His parents were sorcerers. They were sentenced to death…it seems as if he was here to avenge them. He told me so before he performed the magic."

"I could not find Edwin anywhere, Father," said Arthur, straightening up, "I will send for a search party immediately."

"And I will…" began Merlin, before remembering where he was and trailing off, "Um…um…"

"Where is Gaius?" asked Uther, as if Merlin had not spoken.

"He left last night, Father," answered Arthur.

"Left Camelot?"

Arthur looked at Merlin, and Merlin nodded in affirmation, eyes trained to the ground.

"Perhaps you could send a messenger after him, after we catch Muirden," sighed the King.

"Yes, Father."

Uther gave Merlin a last, piercing look before letting them go, Arthur striding and Merlin stumbling after him. They walked, side by side through the hushed corridors, the beetle still held in Merlin's hand. It wasn't until they were back in Arthur's chambers before Arthur spoke.

"I owe you thanks, Merlin. For saving my Father's life."

Merlin blinked. Arthur shifted slightly, uncomfortably, but there was no mistakening the genuine gratitude in his voice. And some of the cold in his chest that had frozen there ever since Gaius' departure melted. Detachedly, Merlin noticed the fire had sprung up, crackling merrily behind Arthur in a glow of amber warmth.

"It was Gaius' tincture."

"All the same, thank you."

"He was your Father," replied Merlin, meaning to have said _of course I saved him.  
_  
Arthur studied his face intently for a few long moments. Then he said, "You may retire for the night. Get some rest, I get undressed without your help."

Merlin raised his eyebrows.

"Really."

"Hurry up and get out before I decide your excessive energy could be put to better use."

Merlin blushed at the comment and Arthur must have noticed because he added,  
"For example, cleaning out the courtyard. Or my stables. Or my boots. And if you don't go get some sleep right now, it'll be all three, am I making myself clear?"

Merlin grinned at him.

"Crystal, sire," he said, before turning and walking out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.  
His smile was still on his face until his feet had taken him back to Gaius' chambers, a well worn route through the castle that he followed without conscious thought. He stared at the door for a long, long moment before opening it and stepping inside.

Everything looked the same: except there were less of Gaius' things on the tables. The shelves still held all it's jars of herbs and strange animal skulls, and many of Gaius' books still remained. Merlin wondered if Gaius would approve of what he did, saving the King. He thought the physician probably would, for they were friends, weren't they? As much as a King could be friends with anyone.

Would Arthur send him away, when he inevitably found out about wings and magic? Or would he send for the executioner? Merlin took the few steps up to his own bedroom and pushed open the door. He saved Arthur's father today, not the king.

There was a jug of water on his bedside table which Merlin didn't remember putting there. Eyeing it, he thought Gaius must have put it there before he left, and the thought brought another lump to his throat.  
Merlin undressed without touching the cup, pulling his nightshirt over his wings and then over his head. The concealment charm was still in place whilst he slept, Merlin not wanting to take the risk of someone bursting in for whatever reason and discovering his secret. He flexed the wings in a slow stretched, clambering onto his bed and punching his flimsy pillow into a more comfortable shape.

He blew out the candle.

There was a shuffling sound and before Merlin could react, someone slammed his head hard into the wall. Light exploded behind his eyes, blinding him. Stunned, he reached instinctively for his magic, but he felt oddly sluggish and slow. Someone was using magic against him. His wings were pinned to the bed beneath him and a hand was gripping his jaw with bruising fingers, forcing them open.

"Gai-"

He felt the cold smooth edge of a bottle on his lower lip before a potion was being emptied into his mouth. He tried to spit it out but the other hand smothered him, and he couldn't breathe, forced to swallow the entire bottle.

Merlin choked. It tasted strangely sweet and bitter at the same time, the smell faint as it reached his nose. His thoughts seemed to be travelling slowly… slowly…

A voice, from far away, a voice he recognised, saying _I will teach you everything I know…_

"So careless, Merlin. Not a single protection ward – all it took was for me to weave a spell of silence and concealment and you never even noticed."

He struggled, trying to manoeuvre a punch Arthur had taught him, but his arm was a leaden weight he could barely lift.

"No…" he slurred. He wasn't capable of much else. The world was blurring alarmingly, his magic hazy and unreachable and he was so…tired. He could feel, as if it were happening to a body that did not belong to him, Edwin pulling him from his bed, a foreign magic tangling itself about his legs like a snake. He tried kicking out, but something tightened around his throat, threatening, cutting off his air for a few long seconds.

"Come with me," said Edwin in a hypnotising voice.

And Merlin did.

*

A/N: Who said I was going to follow canon? :P


	5. part iv

**.iv**

*

_It is in the Autumn of the 46th year of King Uther's rule that the annual harvest breaks all precedent records. There are talks of engaging in the highly profitable winter trade which has, in past years, been impossible due to low yields. The King has declared a celebration in the last week of the season in order to celebrate the blessings bestowed upon Camelot, being the only Kingdom to have successfully purged magic from its soil._

– Extract from the Annals of Camelot, G. O. Monmouth.

*

Arthur and his knights arrived back in Camelot only when the midday sun was already high, tiny pools of shadow beneath the horses' hooves. Edwin had not been found, and although more guards had been dispatched, Arthur didn't have too much faith in the search. If his Father's history of searches had taught him nothing, it was that if the sorcerer really want to hide, he wouldn't be found. And Edwin had disappeared into thin air.

The clatter of hooves echoed around the busy castle courtyard, and Arthur dismounted at the castle steps where a very out of breath stable boy, George?, took the reins of his mare. Arthur raised one eyebrow.

"Where's Merlin?"

"Nobody has seen him this morning, sire," said the boy between breaths - he had obviously come running when he saw the knight's return. "But there's a horse gone missing from the stables, sire, someone had broken into them last night and stolen the grey stallion that was the gift from King of-"

Arthur raised a hand, and the boy fell silent immediately. The first tendrils of dread tugged at his heart.

"A horse was stolen. Do you know when this happened? What of the guards?"

"The guards say they didn't' see or hear anything out of the norm, sire," answered the boy, wringing his hands anxiously.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my lord," said the stable boy, eyes wide.

Arthur turned and ran into the castle. He burst into Gaius' rooms a moment later (unlocked) crossed threshold to Merlin's room. Hand on the doorknob, he pushed cautiously. It swung open without resistance.

It was empty.

Taking a step into the room, Arthur took in the unmade bed that looked like it was not slept in last night, the full pitcher of water still on the nightstand and a shattered cup, shards half hidden beneath the bed – a sign of struggle or Merlin's famed clumsiness? Merlin's coat was not on the chair, nor were there any notes or letters on the table.

There was the sound of footsteps behind him and Arthur swung around, sword making a ishing!/i sound as he drew it from his scabbard so fast, the person screamed.

It was Morgana.

"Good god, Arthur!" she exclaimed, furious, "You nearly took my head off!"

"Morgana?" said Arthur, sheathing his sword, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for Gaius," she said, obviously lying,

"He's left Camelot, as you well know because I know Gwen must have told you last night. But the King's sent a messenger after him, so he should return soon. But that's not important right now, Morgana. Have you seen Merlin at all?"

"Wasn't he with you?"

Arthur's heart sank.

"No…"

"He's not here," said Morgana, eyes dark and eerily faraway, "is he?"

"No," said Arthur, shortly. Then, "Someone's stolen a horse."

"You think iMerlin/i stole a horse?" asked Morgana in a tone that clearly said she thought Arthur was being obtuse.

"Yes! No!" Arthur thumped the wall in exasperation. "How should I know?"

"Perhaps he went after Gaius…?" suggested Morgana.

"Perhaps," conceded Arthur reluctantly. The possibility hadn't even crossed his mind: he had simply assumed that Merlin would stay in Camelot with him, no matter where Gaius went. He didn't want to examine that thought too closely right now. Right now, there were more urgent matters because something iwasn't right./i

"We haven't caught Edwin yet," he said. There was no reaction from Morgana whatsoever. "Morgana?"

"I think you need to go after Edwin," she said, voice flat.

Arthur frowned at her, "I just got back from going after Edwin. I'm going ride out with more Knights in a few hours, Morgana what's the matter?"

She looked up, expression fierce and hair wild. It was only then that Arthur noticed the dark shadows under her eyes and purple eyelids.

"God, you look terrible," he said.

"Edwin has Merlin," said Morgana, as if he had not spoken.

Arthur's entire being went cold in an instant.

"What?"

"Edwin has Merlin, Arthur, he's going to die if you don't-"

"How do you know this?" he demanded, and Morgana fell silent, eyes guarded like a cornered animal. After several moments of silence, Arthur reached to shake her shoulder with his hands but she flinched away from him.

"…Just a feeling," she said at last, not meeting his eyes.

"A feeling- you have to give me better than-"

"Well I can't," she said with her classic Morgana stubbornness, "Listen to me or don't, but Merlin's life is in danger right now and if you don't find him soon he is going to idie./i" She was breathing harshly at this point, nose flared in anger and frustration.

"Where is he?"

"Walls made of stone…A church, I think. Old, there's candles and Edwin, holding a knife."

"Right," said Arthur slowly.

"You need to believe me-"

"I believe you. I believe you, Morgana," said Arthur quickly and she gave him a tight smile at last, the tense line in her shoulders lessening somewhat. Then without another word, she turned to the door.

"What did you want Gaius for, anyway?" he asked, suddenly remembering why she was here. But Morgana was already gone.

*

When Merlin woke, surfacing up to the forefront of his mind and eyes, it was still dark and he was upon a horse, hands lashed to the saddle in front of him. His mouth was gagged and his head still felt woozy, the rocking motion of a cantering horse not helping in the least. For a moment, he had no idea where he was. Then, as if sensing his captive was awake, the person behind him pulled on the reins and the horse came to a stop.

Everything came rushing back with sick clarity and Merlin tensed, trying to tug free of the rope around his wrists. A hand threaded itself through his hair and the fingers curled, pulled his head backwards by the roots so that his neck was exposed to the cold night air. His gag loosened itself at a whispered word, and slipped down his chin to his neck. Merlin coughed.

"Open up," said Edwin from behind, holding another bottle of potion up to Merlin's tightly pressed lips. Merlin kept his teeth clenched. There was a itsk tsk/i sound and then a gloved hand was brought over his face. Merlin struggled for air, twisting and turning in the saddle, making the horse paw the ground with a nervous whinny.

"You'll learn not to fight the inevitable," said Edwin when, starved for oxygen, Merlin opened his mouth to gulp air and Edwin forced the bottle's contents down his throat. As the drug's effects took hold, Merlin could feel Edwin's hand leaving his hair, instead to fist itself firmly in the feathers of Merlin's left wing. Then he sank back down into oblivion.

*

Arthur left with four knights; Leon, Garrett, Percival and Caradoc.

Despite what the people thought, despite what his Father thought, Arthur didn't know how to hunt down a sorcerer. They had imagic/i for heaven's sake, and he did not believe that a true master of such arts would be killed by a blade. His blade wouldn't even come near. But admitting this meant that admitting he could do nothing – and doing nothing was something Arthur hated doing.

Even though he did not completely trust Morgana's descriptions or believe them to be true, their consequences were too dire for him to even ithink/i about ignoring. Merlin had been absent from his side for barely half a day and already Arthur missed his bumbling, grinning, insubordinate presence like an ache in his heart. It tugged him onwards like a siren call, his own will covering the faint thrum of desperation; iMerlin, Merlin, Merlin./i

If he didn't know better, Arthur would have called it magic.

They rode quickly at a gallop through the higher and lower city until the reached the little towns that began spreading from the base of Camelot castle's shadows, into the wilder and wilder country. They searched methodically, every inn, every passersby who could have seen anything ("A man, scars on his face, perhaps wearing a low hood?" and "A boy, skinny, pale, an idiot.").

There was no sign of them.

Arthur did not want to stop and rest – Merlin could be dying- but there was no point in running the men so ragged that they slipped up or worse…walked into a trap. They stopped, six hours after sundown and camped out under the sky rather than find an inn. That night, Arthur dreamt of Merlin lying as still as Morgana had – Edwin's scarred hand hovering over his face, chanting in a language Arthur couldn't understand until he had drained all the life from Merlin's body.

*

The messenger returned with Gaius, newly reinstated Court Physician that very day. Apparently he had not travelled far, having stopped at an inn just on the border of the lower town.

"That Boy," said Uther, finally. "Saved my life by administering to me one of your tinctures. Tell me Gaius, why did you not give that potion to Morgana?"

"The tincture," said Gaius, slowly, "was something I was developing. I did not want to risk it, as it had not been perfected. I wasn't sure if-"

"Did you know that Muirden was a sorcerer?" asked the King, turning towards one of the windows overlooking the courtyard.

"I…suspected, sire."

"And I was not informed of this, because…?"

"With all due respect, you thought Edwin had just saved the life of your ward. I feared that my accusations would have been…ill received."

Uther did not reply, simply stared out the window, hands folded behind his back. The late afternoon sunshine streamed into the room, throwing the King's long shadowed silhouette on the floor like ink. Then, seemingly out of nowhere he said;

"What do you know of angels, Gaius?"

Perhaps it was fortunate that Uther was not facing him or he would have seen the surprise and guilt flash across the old man's face. As it were, Gaius composed his voice.

"Only as much as lore, sire," he said, "Some say they are of the Old Religion, some say the New and some say not at all and they are a being onto themselves. Some lore describes that individual angels are responsible for different things in the mortal realm, but almost all say that they are benevolent."

"Are they sorcerers?" asked the King, as if that point alone was the pivotal shift on which the world revolved. And perhaps in his world, it was.

Gaius paused, and when he spoke, he chose his words carefully.

"They possess an essence that we do not, often called their igrace./i Others believe they are beings of pure magic. But no, angels are not sorcerers."

"Providing that they exist, of course."

"Yes, sire."

Another long silence, a gulf between the King and the reasons of the world.

"The Lady Helen," said Uther, and Gaius looked surprised at the random name, "She was using magic to disguise herself as the singer, was she not?"

"I believe so, sire…" agreed Gaius cautiously.

"Such magic of lies," Uther waved a hand carelessly, "Illusions, masks…is there a method to see through them?"

Gaius nodded.

"A mirror is a most reliable tool, your highness. Most illusions are revealed in the reflections as they only show the truth."

The King smiled.

"Excellent."

*

Merlin had no idea how much time had passed. The only light was the light of a flickering candle – expensive wax- and the smell of damp and rock and herbs. The ropes were gone from his wrists – instead they were chained together with heavy manacles, burning cold against his raw skin. He felt light headed, from the drugs or lack of food and water, Merlin couldn't tell. He was lying sideways on a dirty stone floor, and when he shifted, he discovered his wings had been lashed together with rope so that he could not extend them at all. From his position on the floor, he could only see shadows an darkness…perhaps the outline of…steps? And a table was visible in sight. His wings were cramped. He made a pathetic sound through his gag.

"Ah. You're awake."

Edwin's voice came from somewhere in the darkness, and Merlin jerked backwards instinctively, trying to see where his kidnapper was. His magic was still hazy and out of his grasp, and Merlin thought perhaps the effects of the potion had not quite worn off yet. He tugged at his manacles, trying to see if he could slip a hand through. Arthur had said once that a knight should first break his thumb which then allowed him to escape his bindings – but the thought of snapping his own fingers made Merlin feel ill. He didn't know whether if he could do it.

As if reading his thoughts, Edwin said, "Don't bother getting out of those. Your magic won't work against pure silver and iron."

Merlin told him to sod off. It came out muffled and Edwin laughed, the sound raising goose-bumps on Merlin's neck. Footsteps. Then the hem of a cloak before Edwin was crouching down next to him, reaching for his face. Merlin flinched backwards, trying to dodge the hand but he had nowhere to go. The hand reached towards the back of his head and pulled the gag loose from Merlin's mouth, whilst the other held a skin of water to his lips.

Merlin refused it, turning his head sideways.

"Don't be foolish, you'll die of thirst."

Merlin glared at him. "Not if you kill me first."

Edwin laughed again, tucking the skin away in his cloak and patting Merlin's hair condescendingly.

"All in good time, my little protégé."

Then he straightened and disappeared from Merlin's view again.

"You're really very careless, Merlin," continued Edwin's voice, "Walking around with those wings barely hidden. Why do you think I spent a fortune on a mirror, hmm? They were perfectly visible."

Merlin did not reply, mind numb with shock and fear.

"Imagine my surprise when I came back into my rooms and found an iangel/i rooting through my papers. Who are you here for, little angel?"

"I'm not an angel," said Merlin, voice hoarse and dry. He coughed and swallowed, trying to get moisture back into his mouth. He regretted refusing the water now, even though it was most likely drugged.

"Is that what Gaius told you? Because he's wrong."

"Please, let me go hom-"

"To Camelot?" spat Edwin, and there was the sound of footsteps again, "You would be bound to Camelot?"

"I tell you, I'm not a bloody-mmmphh."

But Edwin had reappeared and stuffed the gag back into his mouth. Still crouching, he rolled Merlin onto his front, hands crushed beneath his torso uncomfortably. His fingers were carding through Merlin's down feathers in a way that made Merlin want to vomit into the flag stones. Then the fingers stilled and there was a sudden jerk of pain which made Merlin cry out into his gag.

"The Dark Moon is tomorrow."

When he was allowed to roll back onto his side, eyes watering, he saw a fistful of long, white feathers in Edwin's hand.

*

A week after his eighth birthday, Will decided to go camping in the woods. Merlin thought it was a terrible idea.

"It could be dangerous!" he protested, lugging on his pack.

Will looked thoughtful at this, then his face brightened in a manic grin. Merlin looked at him suspiciously.

"We could meet bears!" said Will, voice hopeful. Merlin groaned, slapping a palm to his face in exasperation.

They didn't meet bears. They met hunters. Or rather, Will met the hunters and almost met the unfriendly end of a spear.

"Will?!" screamed Merlin, hearing the shouts and bark of dogs but not able to pinpoint the direction from which they were coming in the thick foliage. He ran blindly, and by sheer luck found Will in a clearing, a snapped spear inches away from his face, embedded in the tree next to his head.

"What the fuck?" Will was yelling, demonstrating his talent for being loud and crass and incredulous at the same time.

It turned out that, mistakening him for an animal, the hunters had launched a spear which in all rights should have sliced Will's stupid head in half. But missed him.

"We," said Merlin afterwards, furiously tugging Will back to the village, "are never going camping again."

When Will was twelve, and Merlin was eleven, Ealdor had the coldest winter in eight decades, and the river had frozen over with a layer of sparkling smooth ice and all the mothers forbid their children to go on it. Ice broke, they said, and people drowned from the cold and no one ever found their bodies.

Will and Merlin sneaked out after noon, when Hunith was busy with preparing dinner

Within minutes of being on the ice, it gave an ominous cracking sound underneath Will's boots and he gave Merlin (who was sensible and stayed on the bank) a hilarious look before yelling,

"Run!" and sprinted the width of the river towards Merlin's side of the bank. Behind him, his chunk of ice cracked completely and with a ripping, cracking noise fell into the cold rushing river below. Will was staring at it, wide eyed.

"Well, that was a bit of luck, wasn't it?" he said, hair askew and the necklace Merlin gave him gleaming in the sun.

*

It had been two days until Arthur and his men found a witness. It was the barmaid of the last inn on the outskirts of a fairly large village, auburn hair tied up in a bun. She fluttered her eyelashes at Arthur, who usually liked entertaining the affections of any pretty girl but was not in the mood for it tonight.

"Why, I ithink/i I remember. Had a terribly scarred face he did, asked for the meals in his room, rude as anything!"

"Did he have a companion, a young boy perhaps?" pressed Arthur.

"Well, I don't know…I was terribly busy that night and I can't quite remember…"

Arthur sighed and passed her a small pouch of silver, and she smirked at him, all painted lips and pressing curves.

"A pale boy, quite. Skinny. He looked ill, he did, barely standing up on his own two feet."

"Any idea where they went after they left?" asked Arthur.

"Continued south, I think. Didn't see them go though, left at an ungodly hour."

Arthur inclined his head. "Thank you. If we find them, you will be rewarded handsomely."

"What did they do then?" she asked, curious, "Did they off' someone?"

Arthur and Leon left the inn.

"We need to ride out immediately. Perhaps we can find them before morning," said Arthur when they had all gathered back together. His knights looked at each other and said nothing. Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"Is there a problem?"

"It's just…sire, we have perhaps two hours until midnight," said Caradoc, "The roads are dangerous. Shouldn't we stop here and continue at first light?" The others said nothing, but it was clear from their expressions that they agreed with Caradoc. Arthur scowled.

"Let me decide what we should and shouldn't do," snapped Arthur, pulling up his reins. Without a word, he turned his steed towards the south. The knights followed.

He ishould/i stop, it was dangerous out on these roads at night, but with Merlin so close, Arthur found it hard to halt for anything. Over the last few hours, the desperation thrumming through his blood grew almost to fever pitch, urging Arthur on, on, on, turning his hands when they came to a fork in the road and turning his heart inside out.

*

"I'm not interested in gold," Edwin was saying. Merlin screwed his eyes shut. "Foolish sorcerers before me have died trying to create this. What they don't realise is that there iis/i no spell that can create the water of eternal life. The laws of the old religion do not allow it, and every being in this realm is tied to those laws."

The glinting silver knife made a deep, tidy cut in Merlin's arm. Merlin bit his gag, trying not to make a sound. He could feel blood welling up from the cut, and the cold press of a vial as it was collected. Edwin continued talking.

"Well. Except you."

Merlin opened his eyes, staring at the stone ceiling of wherever they were. He was lying on his back on a table of sorts, strapped down with leather buckles, his hands still manacled in front of him, his wings half crushed beneath him. He could see Edwin's face clearly as he smiled; a little mad.

"To save a life, a life must be given – the universe needs to retain that balance. Did you know that the last great sorcerer who wanted to create the water of eternal life destroyed an entire city? Killed every single person in there, in trade for a life of immortality."

Merlin's eyes tracked Edwin's hands with his eyes, trying to shy away when he saw that the man was holding the knife again, jerking against the straps. Edwin ignored his struggles and made another precise cut on his arm.

"It didn't work," said Edwin casually, "Seven hundred souls were not enough to pay the price of eternal life, and the sorcerer himself died for his experiments. But he didn't know what I know. You see, Merlin, not every soul is worth the same to the universe; you can stop some fates and not others. Snap destiny, even. But to bargain immortality…only the soul of an angel will suffice."

*

On the third day, they caught up with Edwin.

The little stone church stood abandoned in the middle of nowhere, and around it the trees were grey and knuckled, leaves dry and bleached of colour. The only people to be seen were Arthur and his men, red cloaks swirling around their ankles when they dismounted at a distance on the dusty road.

The horses didn't want to go any further, tossing their heads and whinnying in protest. Even Arthur's mare, which he had trained himself and rode since he was eleven, refused his usual signals. Wind blew dust into their eyes as Arthur dismounted, examining the faint day old tracks in the road ahead. A single rider.

"Garrett," said Arthur, "You stay here with the horses and keep a look out. We need to search that."

As one, they drew their swords from their scabbards, Caradoc hefting a crossbow over his shoulder and falling back behind Arthur and Leon. When they were about fifty yards from the church entrance: a tumble down wooden door that had been boarded over, Arthur silently signalled to Leon and Percival.

Quickly, Arthur concluded there was no way into the church without blasting open one of the side doors. He ran a gloved hand down the gap between the rotted wood and the stone. Then on the count of three, he took a few steps back and ran the door, the triangular point of his shoulder colliding with the wood and it cracked on impact, falling inwards with a wet ithumpcrash/i and a billow of dust and cobwebs. Arthur entered the church, sword drawn. It was shadowed and dark in the small corridor that led to the main hall of the church, where Arthur could see the faint flickering warmth of candle light and a voice, muffled by echoing and something else- a hissing.

"Sleep, now."

Keeping to the shadows, he gave his surroundings a cursory glance before moving forwards and methodically checking the alcoves before turning the corner of a large stone pillar. Arthur froze.

Just ahead, at the church's altar, was Edwin, brandishing a long gleaming knife, voice chanting in a foreign tongue. There were bottles of dark red liquid beside his arm and white feathers everywhere and iMerlin/i who was tied to the altar, unmoving. Without hesitation, Arthur took the three steps separating him and Edwin and ran the sorcerer through in one fluid motion.

*

"It won't hurt," said Edwin, smoothing back the hair from his brow, "I promise. It will just take a moment."

Tears streaked down Merlin's face, mostly from sheer panic and fear as he sobbed into his gag and gods ihe didn't want to die./i His pleas were muffled by the cloth in his mouth, but he tried anyway, struggling against the iron and silver at his wrists, his magic crackling just beneath his skin desperately until Edwin whispered,

"Sleep. Sleep, now."

Merlin's consciousness blinked out.

*

Arthur knew without looking that Edwin was dead.

He ran towards the altar.

"MERLIN!" he shouted, unable to keep the note of desperation from his voice, "Gods. Merlin? Merlin."

He was laying limp and unmoving, eyes shut and breathing even. Taking his sword, Arthur quickly cut through the bonds as his three knights also burst into the church, having heard his shouts.

"Merlin. Merlin, wake up," said Arthur, checking him quickly for any wounds and was relieved to find none except two cuts leaking blood on his arm and a lump at the back of his head. He slapped Merlin's cheek, which caused colour to blossom on the pale skin like a blush and Arthur thought, detached, that it was quite beautiful, before pulling himself forcibly back to the present with Merlin did not so much as twitch a muscle.

"Merlin!"

"Sire, here," said Leon, appearing at his shoulder and passing Arthur a skin of water. Arthur uncapped it, supporting Merlin's head as he dribbled some of the clear liquid into his parted lips. His throat worked, but Merlin remained unconscious.

"We don't know what the sorcerer has done to him," said Leon, "We might not be able to wake him."

"We need to get him back to Camelot immediately," said Arthur, pulling Merlin's prone form into his arms and hoisting him off the alter.

"God. You are polishing every single pair of boots I own when we get back," said Arthur into Merlin's hair, "You weigh a lot for a waif."

"N'polishin'boots," mumbled Merlin and Arthur nearly dropped him.

"Merlin! Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"Stop yelling…" said Merlin plaintively, trying to wiggle out of Arthur's arms. It resulted in both of them on the ground, Arthur half on his knees. His breeches would be ruined.

He found he didn't much care. The sight of Merlin, still as death on the altar, was seared into his retinas.

"You," he said, anger, worry, fear and relief all crashing down upon his shoulders at once, "Will never do this again, you hear?" He shook Merlin's thin shoulders, his voice cracking but now that he could iseetouchfeel/i Merlin, he couldn't' stop: "It took us three days to find you! Three days and Morgana was raving about how you were going to be idead./i I should bloody well sack you for being so incompetent as to get ikidnapped/i you useless, terrible-"

They knelt there on the damp stone floor of a fallen down church, Arthur's arms wrapped tight around Merlin's scrawny frame. No one ever mentioned it, least of all Arthur, who thought he must have delirious with exhaustion as his fingers felt something strangely soft at Merlin's back, and said nothing at all.

*

iOne week later:/i

"What are you doing out here?"

Arthur didn't turn from where he was staring out over the city. He could see Merlin and his neckerchief –blue, today- approach in his peripheral vision. The nights were getting colder as the end of Autumn drew nearer, and Arthur liked to come here and watch as the town transformed into a map of soft, golden glows. It was like looking at stars.

"Arthur?"

"What, Merlin?" said Arthur, still without looking at him.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" asked Merlin.

Arthur wanted to protest that Crown Princes of Camelot did not avoid anyone because they went where they pleased. If Merlin found his presence lacking, it was surely because Arthur did not wish to grace him with his esteemed company. Then he sighed and said,

"Because you are a pain in the backside. I retreated up here for some peace and quiet."

There was a pause.

"You're missing your dinner. It's quail. You like quail."

"I know it's quail because I can smell it on you. Have you been stealing my food again?"

"Your fault you disappeared," said Merlin, unabashed.

Arthur snorted. "Hark who's talking."

The silence stretched between them, tense and colder than the night wind which had begun to blow. The sliver of moonlight made Merlin's skin shine and he looked ethereal to Arthur. Otherworldly. He wanted to take his words back because it wasn't really as if Merlin ileft/i but that wasn't what bothered the prince. It was the truths that had been unearthed when Merlin vanished, truths Arthur had been burying under banter and station and duty which had all been thrown out the window the moment he saw Merlin on that alter with a knife to his chest.

"Arthur…" Merlin began, but Arthur cut him off.

"I have something for you," he said, gruffly, reaching into his pocket and drawing out a gold ring on a chain. It swayed from his fingers like a pendulum, hypnotising. "Here."

Merlin took the ring, hesitant, eyes trained on Arthur's face.

"Arthur, this is expens-"

"It is the royal seal," interrupted Arthur, wanting to say iyou're worth more, you're worth more than anything only if you're safe./i "If you wear it always, it might help keep you out of trouble. God knows you need it. People will recognise that seal and know to whom you belong."

"Are you sure…?"

"You belong to my household, Merlin. I never wear that ring anyway."

"Really," said Merlin, expression sceptical.

It was getting harder and harder for Arthur to maintain enough resolution to stand still and not give in to his urge to turn and run.

"Just wear the bloody thing before I take it back. And don't you lose it either."

Merlin studied his face for another long moment before finally looping the chain over his head, a small smile curving the corner of his mouth upwards. The chain gleamed against pale skin as Merlin tucked the ring underneath his neckerchief. They were standing close enough to-

"Thanks, Arthur."

*

[A/N] All the parts should be posted up-to-date by this weekend. hopefully.


	6. part v

**.v**

When time slows almost to a stop, the world was still in Merlin's hands.

The Lake was alive and sparkling, a film thinner than the membranes of a butterfly, stretched fluid yet taut between the mortal world and Avalon. It sang to Merlin, the voices drawing his very blood towards them and his wings _glow_, it tugs on his heartstrings like Arthur's smile sometimes does and calls to him like a mother calling to her child, a father's loving embrace:

_Emrys…home, home, home, home, come closer child, come home…_

Of course, he did not know it was Avalon then. Only knew that it looked bright and in comparison, the earth around him is a dull place where lives come and go as if they were nothing. He didn't belong here. He needed to go into the lake, into the _lake, home home home home_

Then Aulfric raised his staff, voice breaking through the spell and Merlin almost stumbles before tearing his eyes away.

*

「The land of eternal youth. Mortals are only supposed to glimpse it the moment before death.」

Gaius was studying him over the width of the table, and it was a scientific curiosity that was burning in the physician's eyes. Merlin wondered briefly whether that statement meant he was _not_ immortal or was really, really close to death. He couldn't decide which he'd prefer.

「Well, I've seen it and I'm still here.」

「Extraordinary! What did it look like?」 pressed Gaius and Merlin lost his patience.

「Who cares? Does it matter? They're going to sacrifice Arthur!」

*

Merlin had never been the one to throw his heart out least it be trampled. Yes, he more often than not wore it on his sleeve, obvious in his smiles and sorrows and fancies; but he was always careful, allowing himself a taste but never anything more. He had loved Will at a distance, too scared to ruin the friendship between them, until he had had to leave for Camelot. The only person he loved without reserve and fear was his Mother…and perhaps he would love his father too, if he ever found him.

But Arthur was different. Merlin thought, in his quiet and private moments, that he might be destined to love Arthur forever; loyalty and adoration burning fierce in his heart until the day he died. He didn't know when things had shifted, but there he was, walking down a road that was barely wide enough for his feet to stand on. Because loving Arthur the Prat was loving Arthur the Prince and Arthur the Prince had to marry one day (even if he entertained Merlin's affections, which was about as likely as Will learning table manners. To say, not at all) and Merlin _knew_ that Camelot was first and foremost…

But it didn't stop him. It couldn't stop him, and his wings grew and grew and grew.

「Get out,」 said Arthur. Merlin hovered by the bed, watching the prince pack.

「I thought the King was a bit harsh,」 he said.

「I don't need sympathy, Merlin, especially not from you.」

「But I did think he had a point,」 said Merlin.

Arthur turned to him then, face thunderous.

「I ordered you to get out. Now leave me!」

「Arthur, I know you think you know what you're doing and I know you think you're in love with Sophia, but-「

「Who are you to tell me what I'm thinking?」

「I'm your friend,」 said Merlin quietly.

「No, Merlin,」 snapped Arthur, 「You're my servant. Now get out.」

Merlin flinched, but plowed on bravely. 「You're enchanted – she's put a spell on you, you have to believe me, I followed them to the lake and I heard everything if you-」

「Don't listen to him, Arthur. Let's go. Let's leave tonight,」 Sophia's voice suddenly from behind him. Merlin didn't give up.

「She's going to kill you; she plans to sacrifice your life to-」

Aulfric never let him finish his sentence. There was a flash of light, the sensation of flying through the air before Merlin's head connected with the opposite wall and the world vanished from his eyes.

*

Merlin quickly learnt that fearing for Arthur's life was infinitely more terrifying than fearing his own. It blanked out his mind with white panic when he woke and found himself alone in Arthur's chambers, night quickly dawning by the looks of the rapidly darkening sky outside.

Standing up, he swayed alarmingly before steadying himself, his head pounding with both the sound of his heart and probably concussion. The back of his head felt like there was an axe embedded in it, but his wings had saved his back from the worst of the bruising. When he could determine where the door was, Merlin took a few stumbling steps into the corridor and began to run.

He is quickly out of the castle grounds and tearing through the forest. Branches scratched at his arms and his face, and more than once he trips on a protruding tree root, falling heavily on his hands and knees. They were cut and bloody by the time the trees thinned and he could make out the blue of the lake water and the silhouettes of Aulfric. He stopped, panting harshly. Sophia was in the water, golden cloak fanning out behind her.

There was no sign of Arthur anywhere.

There was a litany of _no, no, no, no, no_ going through Merlin's head and on instinct he reached for the staff, lying abandoned on the ground, but Aulfric turns, sees him and gives a shout of anger-

There was no time, and with hand still outstretched, Merlin feels his magic and something else well up like a unstoppable tide, saw the man's eyes widen at the sight of his wings before he was blasted apart into a million fragments of magic and soul. There was a shriek from the river, as Sophia screamed 「Father!」 before Merlin turned to her and she too, disintegrated. Then, like water being sucked back into a bottle, his magic slammed back down his throat, driving Merlin to his knees. Staggering, he pushed himself back off the earth and ran towards the lake, splashing right into the water.

「Arthur!?」 he shouted, wading further and further out until his feet left the river bottom, 「Arthur!」

Taking a deep breath, he dived under the surface.

The water of the lake was dark and murky with mud, tinged sickly green and Merlin couldn't see Arthur anywhere. Desperately, he rose to the surface and gulped another breath of air before diving back down again, hands outstretched, frantic. How long had Arthur been in the water? Then, after another frantic gulp of air, Merlin saw a glint of gold to his right and kicked his feet, propelling himself forwards. It was the light reflecting off Arthur's hair, and Merlin looped one arm around Arthur's chest and started swimming for the surface.

Arthur was wearing armour and mail. He kept slipping through Merlin's fingers, so heavy that he was dragging them back down towards the bottom of the lake every time Merlin kicked his feet. His own wings were making it hard to swim upwards, feathers clogged with water, and Merlin's lungs burned, his vision growing dark around the edges as the light from the surface narrowed down to a small pinpoint of light. Bubbles streamed from his mouth as he screamed out a spell, water rushing down his throat as the magic propelled them up towards the surface and out, sweet fresh air like a blow to Merlin's lungs. He coughed, clutching Arthur tightly to his chest, the prince's bedraggled head lolling back onto Merlin's shoulder. Merlin kicked, his leg muscles screaming in protest, and he staggered onto the river bank at long last, his wings almost too heavy to lift, weighted down with water.

Arthur lay still and pale on the sand.

He wasn't breathing.

Still gasping from dragging Arthur out of the lake, Merlin crouched over his chest, trying to remember what Gaius had taught him. It seemed a lifetime ago, separated by an immeasurable amount of distance between Arthur telling him to muck out the stables and this moment where he was about to die.

Tilting Arthur's head back, Merlin took a breath and put his lips to Arthurs, hands thumping Arthur's chest and he took another breath, another breath, breathing for his prince. Just before Merlin almost passed out from lack of oxygen, Arthur choked – then jackknifed into a sitting position, throwing Merlin off balance as he coughed and retched onto the sand. Merlin's hands were framing Arthur's face, his hair, his chest, and his mouth was blabbering, 「Oh god, you're alive, you're alive, thank god, you're alive, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur-」 while he shivered and his wings trailed to either side of them. Arthur's ring was cold against his chest, pressing a perfect circle into his shirt which was soaked and clinging to him like a second skin.

「I thought you had drowned,」 confessed Merlin in a shaky voice. Arthur looked barely conscious, staring up into Merlin's face, pupils uneven. His lips and skin were tinged blue with cold and he coughed again.

「Merlin?」

And without thinking, Merlin closed the final inch between them and kissed him.

Around them, the autumn trees burst into summer bloom.

_**-  
**_

_I know we can't be together,  
But I just like to dream.  
…It's so strange, the way our paths have crossed;  
How we were brought together. It's written in the stars, it seems.  
And I'm flying so high off the ground, when you're around  
I'm flying so high off the ground._

_- Flying High by Jem_

_-  
_

*

_The end of the 46th year of King Uther's rule marks the beginning of a time of peace between Camelot and her neighbours. The eastern border, which has been the subject of political skirmishes for the last decade, has been secured by a successful alliance with the Kingdom of Odin, and the Kingdome of Mercia, which in light of recent events, was most remarkable._

_– Extract from the Annals of Camelot, G. O. Monmouth._

_*_

Will always said Merlin was a trusting sort of person. And he was. Merlin _liked_ to trust people- he _wanted_ to trust them.

He didn't trust Mordred. And perhaps that was because the Druid boy had spoken _inside Merlin's head_ and that sort of invasion just did not inspire trust, even from the most naïve fools (e.g. Merlin,) but even as he helps the boy run across a guard-strewn courtyard, he doesn't trust him. He doesn't trust him when he helps Morgana hide the boy away behind curtained satin, and he doesn't trust him even as he persuades Arthur to help them escape. Because there is still a part of him that can't let himself stand still and watch a boy die.

「How does he know who I am? I've never even met any druids!」

The great dragon tilts its head at him.

「There is much written about you that you have yet to read. You should not protect this boy.」

「Why? He has magic. He's just like me.」

「You and the boy are as different as day and night,」 said the dragon, 「If the boy lives; you cannot fulfill your destiny.」

「What's he got to do with my destiny? You said its my destiny to protect Arthur!」

「Then you have the answer you seek.」

*

He contemplates just letting the boy die. He lies in his bed and tries to drown out his voice in his head shouting, 「EMRYS, EMRYS, EMRYS」 and in the end he goes, because he promised Arthur he would.

Autumn was a beautiful season, but for Merlin, he waited for winter. When he was older, winter was scarce food and worry. But in his earlier childhood, winter was snow and Will and warm broth. Merlin would wait eagerly for the snow to fall. And every first fall, Will would manage to ambush him, and stuff a freezing ball of snow down his shirt and they would stay outside until all the fresh snow in their sight had been turned into a war ground. The first winter Merlin had been allowed outside by himself was just shortly after his sixth birthday.

「You need to like down on your back properly, Muuurlin,」 admonished Will, still upright and nudging Merlin with the toe of his boots. Merlin glared up at his friend, squinting because the sun was in his eyes.

「You lie down. It's wet. What are we doing anyway?」

Will flopped down onto a clear patch of grass near Merlin so they were side by side, spreading out his arms and legs and making swiping motions in the snow. He turned his head towards Merlin, grinning.

「You do it, go on.」

Merlin mimicked, feeling the wet snow seep through his woolen sleeves and his trousers.

「When you stand up, the indents look like angels, see? I'scalled _snow angels._」

「Snow angels,」 repeated Merlin, looking back at Will.

_」Swear to me. Swear you'll never harm Arthur.」_

_There is a pause inside his own head, then Mordred's voice filters through their link._

_「I swear, Emrys. If you help me, I will be in your debt. I know that someday, we will meet again.」_

_Then he was gone. _

*

That night, Merlin dreams of Arthur, Mordred, destiny and snow.

*

The next morning, the castle was covered in white.

Merlin was sure his wings were large in enough for him to try flying already. It had almost doubled in size in the last few months, arching high, high over his head, tail feathers trailing the floor unless he unfolded his wings which proved (several times) to be extremely hazardous in doors. Even though people couldn't _see _ the wings, it didn't stop Merlin from knocking them into the door frames or into people or into priceless vases or into Arthur.

「Ow!」 said the prince, 「Did you just poke me in the eye?」

Merlin turned around, guilty.

「What? Me?! No way!」

He was standing at least two arms-lengths away so Arthur only gave him a suspicious look before turning back to whatever he was doing and Merlin returned to pretending to be dusting the windowsill. It was just an excuse for him to stare longingly out of the window at the first snow, still fresh and untrodden in the castle courtyard. It looked very soft and sparkled invitingly in the early morning sun. Like sparkling cream. Or pie cream. Or-

「Merlin, are you even listening to me?」

Merlin turned around quickly, duster in hand. 「What? Yes, 『course.」

Arthur gave him a 『oh reeeaally' face, and said 「Oh really. What was I just saying?」

Merlin hazard a guess.

「Erm. You were just saying…what a nice day it is today…?」

Arthur rewarded his answer with a grin that Merlin privately thought looked a little manic. This grin usually signaled that Arthur was about to enjoy himself immensely and someone else was going to be very sad. That someone was usually Merlin. Nine times out of ten.

「That's right, Merlin! I was just saying what a nice day it was…_to go hunting._」 He slapped the papers down in a pile at his right hand, standing up. 「Come on then! Hop to it, get my gear ready and prepare two horses. We leave in half an hour.」

「But Arthur!」 whined Merlin, who really just wanted to roll around in the snow and thought that wasn't too much to ask, 「It's winter! There aren't any bears or whatever. They're all sleeping!」 _Like I want to be sleeping until I had to come up and serve you breakfast you lazy arse._

「We don't have bears here, Merlin, don't be an idiot. Now hurry up, you're the one who has been itching to go outside all week.」

Merlin tried again. 「Couldn't we just-」

「No!」

Merlin groaned, and slunk out of Arthur's chambers in the direction of the stables. It was always a hopeless argument when it was against hunting. Arthur was never deterred, by weather, season, famine and least of all his manservant. And that was all well and good, but if on that autumn day, Merlin had been able to persuade Arthur to roll around in the snow instead of going hunting; things would have turned out a lot better for the Prince.

*

Snow was a lot less fun when you had to trudge through it for over two hours, carrying Arthur's spare crossbow, food, dead rats and other assorted unmentionables. Merlin's boots sank deep into the icy snow and he had to pull it out and up before taking another step. Arthur, of course, only glared at him over his shoulder and motioned for him to be quiet. There was a moment of stillness before the _thwack_ as the arrow hit something in the undergrowth. Arthur made a satisfied Arthur-noise before he retrieved the prey and tossed it at Merlin who nearly dropped it.

It was a rabbit.

「You can't eat that right now, Merlin,」 said Arthur, teasing, mistakening Merlin's stare for one of hunger.

Merlin scowled at him and slung the rabbit over his shoulder.

「Does this mean we can go back now?」 he asked, without much hope.

「I would have thought you'd want to make the most of this freak snow fall,」 said Arthur, 「And plus, we can't go back with just a hare.」 His eyebrows were almost crawling off his face, 「We need at least a brace to go back without shame. So you'd better hurry if you want to return before sun down.」

Then he strode off into the forest, walking easily through the snow (superior boots, damn him) and leaving Merlin to catch up. When began falling so far behind Arthur that the prince's figure no longer within sight, Merlin cursed and muttered a few words under his breath. Heat rushed from his hands and the magic melted the snow in front of him to allow him to walk through it more quickly without getting stuck.

「Arthur?」 he called, not caring that he would probably be told off for scaring off the bears. There was no reply. Merlin hurried up a sludgy slope, peering into the trees around him.

「This isn't funny, Arthur, wait up!」

Still no reply. Merlin walked onwards, trying to keep branches from being tangled into his feathers. Which still smelt like lake water, thanks to Arthur. He grew more and more frantic as time went on, and Arthur was still nowhere to be found. His voice grew hoarse with shouting. He had the strangest feeling that he was walking in circles… Eventually, he came within sight of a small clearing surrounded by…Merlin stopped short. Something shimmered at the edge of his peripheral vision; a movement.

「Arthur? You there?」

Someone laughed. Merlin jerked backwards in surprise.

「Who's there?」 he said, and was glad when his voice didn't waver. There was another tinkling peal of laughter, the sound coming as if from a different world, clear yet echoing with a haze of gold. Merlin's magic swirled beneath his skin, as if responding. If he concentrated, he could almost make out voices…

「Show yourself,」 he commanded, raising his right hand slowly.

Then the clearing was full of- Merlin blinked and stared. At first glance, they looked human. But he quickly realised they were far from that; skin tinged green, yellows and reds, ears elongated and pointed at the tip. Their eyes were the colour of the forest, all of them, hair so laced through with leaves that Merlin couldn't' tell where the thin vines ended and began. They were willowy and dressed in fine silk clothes that barely covered their limbs and Merlin couldn't the men apart from the women. And in the midst of them, beyond a faintly glowing circle of toadstools and flowers, was Arthur.

Merlin gasped and began walking forwards, but one of the creatures held up both arms to stop him.

「What are you? Let me pass!」

「The princeling trespassed on holy ground. All mortals who walk willingly into our circle must remain here for all eternity.」

Trust Arthur to bring them hunting in a patch of forest that had to be infested with…efly people, thought Merlin, annoyed. Of all the other patches of forest, they had to choose _this_one.

「You can't keep him,」 said Merlin firmly. 「Let him go.」 And he stepped into the clearing. At once, the creatures converged upon him and Merlin, on instinct, snapped his wings out. They all froze, green green eyes staring. Taking advantage of their suddenly stillness to sprint across the clearing. They parted for him like a wave of ferns in the breeze.

「Arthur! Let's go!」 said Merlin urgently, tugging at his arm when Arthur made no move, staring rather vacantly at a point just beyond Merlin's shoulder.

Arthur turned slowly to look down at his face, eyes seeing but vaguely glazed. His golden hair glowed even though there was very little light in the late afternoon, and his eyes- his eyes had changed colour. Merlin shook him by the arm he was holding on to.

「Arthur. Arthur, snap out of it.」

「He would prefer our world and our company,」 said the creature who had spoken earlier, 「The fae can offer him much more than your dull, earthly kingdoms.」

Merlin turned to the creature – a Fae, it seemed- magic crowding behind his eyes, so that the world seemed gold.

「Let him go.」

「He is ours by right,」 said the Fae, and in the distance, more laughed in delight. Merlin clenched his teeth and drove their glamours out of his mind. 「We keep him. You, Emrys the Immortal, are free to pass through the ring.」

「No. He's coming with me.」

「No mortal can leave our realm once he enters it! He must willing choose to leave, your magic cannot force him, _Nefalim_.」

Merlin turned back to Arthur, who was smiling at him in a completely non-Arthur expression. Merlin shook him again. His skin sparked with gold when he reached up and placed a palm on Arthur's cheek. His heart thudded with the intimate contact, racing with daring, but Arthur just smiled in a way which told Merlin the real Arthur was not really present.

「Arthur. Arthur, wake up. Come on.」

He almost jumped when Arthur responded, hand coming up to cup Merlin's own. Then he said,

「Would you like to dance?」

「What?」 said Merlin, 「No! I don't want to dance! I want you to snap out of it!」

The not-Arthur tilted his head.

「You…don't want to dance?」

Merlin whirled around.

「What have you done to him?」

The Fae flittered about them in shining shades of green. It was like the forest itself was alive, dancing and breathing and moving.

「We can give him all that he has ever desired,」 intoned the Fae, 「Every dream and every wish. What can you give him?」

But Merlin had had enough. He pulled Arthur towards the center of the circle, pass the other-side and to the edge of the clearing. Arthur came, pliant and quiet, still smiling.

「Shall we dance?」 he asked, delighted.

「No. No, Arthur. I've saved your life so many times you are _not _ throwing it away by playing with the fairies. You're going to wake up right now and remember you're the crown prince of Camelot and you don't dance and you- just, come back, _come back right now, Arthur._」

And it was like an invisible bond between them snapped tight, golden and unbreakable and Merlin suddenly realised this was what destiny felt like. He could feel and see the magic of the forest, spreading out like a vast, vast lattice of gold and green and white, and its magic welled up into him and into Arthur and just as suddenly as it had come, the magic stilled, the gold and green glow from Arthur's eyes fading back to their normal blue.

「Merlin. What the hell?」

Merlin looked around. The light and the Fae people had vanished. He reached to tug Arthur out of the clearing circle, but Arthur whacked him upside the head hard enough to make Merlin's eyes water.

「What happened, Merlin?」 demanded the prince, eyes darting around the now dim clearing, 「Last thing I remember I told you to hurry up and then…」

「You got…kidnapped by fairies.」

「Fairies,」 said Arthur.

「You walked into their sacred circle of mushrooms and they were going to play with you for the rest of eternity. Because you're so stupid you couldn't see where you were going!」

「Mushroom circle,」 repeated Arthur, doubtfully.

Exhausted from magic and the scare Arthur had given him, Merlin deflated.

「I think you walked into a tree branch or something,」 Merlin improvised, 「Knocked yourself out.」

「This is sounding less and less likely by the minute.」

「There really is a fae circle back there,」 said Merlin, pointing wearily, 「Gaius has told me about them, once.」

Merlin paused, watching Arthur's expression carefully.

「What did you see…?」 he asked, tentatively.

「Well. If Gaius told you,」 said Arthur, deflecting his last question, 「We'd better mark this part of the forest on the map when we get back. Stop anyone else from wandering into a trap.」

Merlin nodded, letting the subject drop for now.

「You walked into one without knowing and they liked to keep mortals enchanted for their…amusement. I persuaded them to let you go.」

「With your crossbow?」

「No,」 said Merlin, grinning, 「I told them you were a prat and only liked talking about killing things. I guess they thought you were too boring then.」

Arthur pouted. (it was definitely a pout)

「I'll have you know, Merlin, Crown Princes are never 『boring'.」

「They cut their losses,」 teased Merlin, 「Lucky them.」

Arthur paused in his tracks up ahead and Merlin caught up with him.

「What are you do-argh!!」 Merlin let out a high pitch sound as a compact ball of snow hit him in the face and down his shirt, freezing against skin.

「Arthur!」

「Your face!」 Arthur gaffawed, slapping a thigh, 「Your-oh shit.」 He swore as Merlin came after him with vengeance, a handful of loose snow in one hand. He threw it at Arthur's head and missed, but was not deterred and sent another handful down the back of Arthur's shirt. Arthur pushed him into a snow drift and they ended up sprawled on the snow trodden ground, panting for breath. Arthur turned his head, which was damp and wet with snow, to face Merlin. The grin on Arthur's face made Merlin's magic sing; _he_ made Arthur smile like that.

「Hey,」 said Merlin.

「What,」 said Arthur, still smiling.

「Have you ever made a snow angel?」

*


	7. part vi

.vi**  
**

_Look at me, and tell me who I am.  
Why I am, What I am.  
Call me a fool, And it's true I am.  
I don't know who I am.  
Time's not a friend, hurrying by.  
I wonder who am I?_

- Jekyll & Hyde.

*

「Gaius. What do you know of angels?」 asked Merlin, a few days after Arthur's incident with the fairies.

And Gaius almost dropped the glass vial he was holding.

As it turned out, Gaius did know things about angels. His knowledge was presented to Merlin in the form of a dusty pile of books that made Merlin sneeze.

「What prompted this?」 asked Gaius, event eventually.

Merlin made a noncommittal sort of noise, not wanting to recount what had happened with Edwin more than necessary. From what he could make out, all the books depicted angels as heavenly hosts who sounded more like spirits than beings of flesh and blood. When venturing to the mortal realm, angels had to take a willing human host. And since Merlin couldn't ever remember such an event taking place, he doubted he was carrying an angel around in his skin. Or was _he_ the angel and this was actually the body of some other child? Did this mean that Hunith was not really his mother?

Merlin had a quiet panic fit before realising that if he was indeed a vessel-riding angel, then he would have to be an amnesiac vessel-riding angel because he had no recollection of what he came down to earth _for._

He sighed and closed the book he was just reading, opening up another. None of the texts explained his magic, either, or his particular brand of healing powers. Angels was said to be able to cure any illness, even bring people back from the dead – but nothing suggested that the injuries would be transferred onto the angel in question. The only thing he seemed to have in common with the mythical beings were his wings and Edwin's words.

Well. Merlin stared at the page he was currently on, the writing small and black, illustrations full of colour. Angels were meant to be guardians; watched over people or a charge and kept them safe. They were an invisible presence that diverted danger. Perhaps this was what his destiny meant? Was he sent by some unseen force to protect Arthur? Were there other angels walking around Camelot, unseen like him, watching over someone they lov-

Merlin turned the page over.

While he read, Gaius looked as if he was constantly on the verge of speaking. But when the evening drew to a close, Gaius had not said a word.

*

The black Knight smelt of death. Arthur's coronet gleamed in the light of a hundred candles, and his blade was frosted over from the cold emanating from the knight.

「To the death,」 it said, and Sir Pellinore stood back up, a black gauntlet clutched in his fist, his face as white. Later, when Arthur refused to back out of his challenge and the wraith stood unmoving and inhuman in the middle of the moonlit courtyard, Merlin conjured a fire around the knight and watched as it winked out, as if it were nothing.

*

「I don't understand,」 said Merlin for the umpteenth time, 「Does this mean I'm _not_ an angel? I'm just a freak then?」

The Great Dragon shifted a claw upon its perch, sending a cascade of loose rocks clattering into the dark abyss that spiralled beneath the weak glow of Merlin's torch fire.

「You are neither of the heavens nor of the earth,」 said the Dragon on the exhale of a dry, smoky breath, 「What you humans know of _your blood_ is very little at best. But you _are _tied to the Old Religion, and your destiny likewise to her whims.」

Merlin stared.

「What does that even mean?」 he asked, put out. 「Can't you just give me a straight answer?」

「What do you know of your father, little one?」

「Nothing,」 said Merlin honestly, 「My mother never spoke of him. I think he died before I was born. Or left.」

The dragon was staring at him with one intense, golden eye. It blinked once, a flash of rigid scales, colour dulled by the lack of sun and the oppressive darkness of the caves. When the dragon did not answer, Merlin tried again;

「A few days ago, Arthur and I chanced upon some Fae folk in the forest north of here. I think they called me something, 『Nefalim'. Can you tell me what that means?」

If Merlin didn't know better, he could have sworn something like surprise flickered through the dragons' ambient eyes. But it was gone so swiftly he wondered if he had imagined it. It reared back its head in a fluid motion that made Merlin take an instinctive step backwards.

「It means you are destined to return magic to Albion,」 it said, voice irritated and grating, 「Life back into its soil, and-」

Merlin gritted his teeth in frustration, 「Yes, but what does the word _mean?_」

The dragon was shifting on its perch, ready to fly off.

「Perhaps you should ask the Fae,」 it said, before launching into the air with a magnificent push of leathery wings. Merlin's irritation vanished in a second and he called after the dragon,

「Wait. Wait! You said you would teach me to fly! Come back!」

*

The problem was that Merlin could hardly say to Arthur, 『Hey, is there any chance of us going back to that patch of forest infested with the fairies who wanted to make you dance for all eternity? Because I need to ask them about what they know about wings and angels and other related matters and while we're on that subject, I've been meaning to tell you, I've got wings; have had them since forever and I also may have a little magic. Maybe.』

Arthur wouldn't take that well. The old Arthur would have thrown him to the guards at the first flash of feathers, but Merlin wasn't sure how this new Arthur – the Arthur who had given him his ring, saved him from being gutted by Edwin- would react.

So he lied.

「A whole day? What kind of herb picking requires an entire day? Unless Gaius is taking into account of your utter incompetence, in which case I can see the reasoning behind the estimation.」

Merlin rolled his eyes.

「These herbs don't grow anywhere near the castle. I've got to ride out there and then search for them. They…erm, look nearly exactly like little blades of grass so it takes a high amount of expertise to distinguish the herbs from normal grass. Er.」

Arthur looked sceptical.

「And Gaius trusts you with this…grass-herb picking?」

Merlin looked indignant, 「I'll have you know-」

Arthur waved his hand, 「Alright, alright. You'll be excused for the day tomorrow, but you'll have to make up for the chores today. Now, I need you to polish my armour again, you missed some spots earlier, and once you've finished…」

Merlin's shoulders slumped in anticipation of an exhausting day, and he mentally cursed the dragon for not giving him a straight answer and saving him the trouble of all this hassle in the first place.

*

Excalibur was beautiful. And it wasn't meant to be in Uther's gloved hand. It was supposed to be for Arthur, bright like the future that was his and Merlin's destiny. But the king took the sword from Merlin's reluctant fingers and fought for a son he loved but couldn't love.

As he fought, Merlin watched the window of Arthur's room and did not unlock his door.

*

Merlin took his usual horse – a bay that was more easy tempered than Arthur's chargers- early in the morning, wearing only a light coat. He liked mornings: when the air was cool ruffled through his wings, mornings when there were less people around and he could stretched them out without bumping anyone.

Tying a small pack, which contained some bread, ham, and three apples he nicked from Arthur's bowl when he wasn't looking, securely onto the back of the saddle, Merlin mounted the horse and soon they were out of the castle gates.

Three hours later, Merlin wasn't quite sure where they were going. He was fairly certain he was in the right area of forest: there had been a small shack just beyond the fork in the road, fences painted a dull brick red. Then there ha been those wild chickens which marked roughly where he had begun following the forest trail. But now… Merlin had thought he wouldn't have a problem, seeing as Arthur had taken them hunting here only a few days ago. But Merlin hadn't realised just how much he had been relying on Arthur's sense of direction and instructions, not really paying attention to his surroundings. He regretted not asking for more specific directions, but after Arthur's obnoxious 「You sure you're not going to get lost, _Mer_lin?」 he didn't really have much choice but throw in a few choice insults and refuse help.

Tentatively, he dismounted, looking around at identical trees and ferns and dirt and grass and wild yellow flowers; the hardy types that bloomed all the way into the heart of winter. He shivered at the chill of a sudden gust of wind, and let his mind loosen and open up, nudging at his magic. It woke as if from a nap, tingling down to his fingertips and he let a strand of it run out through his palm, into the nearest oak, searching for that laughter and _green green green_ of the Fae.

Someone laughed. And Merlin smiled, clambering back upon his horse and letting the _green_ guide him.

The sun had already peaked and passed into afternoon when Merlin finally found the clearing. It glowed faintly when he looked at it from the corner of his eye (never directly), and this time, he strode right into the center of the circle and called out,

「Hello! Hello, I need to, erm, talk to you.」

There was a rustling sound, but nothing appeared. The forest was holding its breath.

「Hello! Remember me? I've got a few questions I thought you could help me with,」 said Merlin, voice braver than he felt. From their last encounter, he was pretty sure the Fae's magic didn't work on him. But he wondered all the same, what it would be like to be trapped here amongst so much _-_

And without fanfare, a Fae folk stepped out of the rowan tree to his right, hair billowing in the early winter breeze. The colour of his skin had changed, tinged pale this time as if heralding the arrival of a new season and the dying of an old.

「Why have you disturbed us, _Nefalim_?」

Merlin let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Behind him, his horse snorted into the air, ears perked up and alert, stance uneasy. Merlin let his wings trail to the forest floor either side of him, relaxed.

「Why do you call me by that name?」 he asked, 「What does it mean?」

The Fae tilted its head to the left, surveying him with large, almond eyes.

「You seek knowledge?」

Merlin nodded hesitantly. 「Yes,」 he said, and then added, 「If you would be so kind.」

「There will be a price. For knowledge is something not freely given.」

Merlin swallowed.

「Price? What kind of price?」

The Fae's eyes glittered, and the forest whispered sweetness in the air around Merlin's face.

「A kiss.」

Merlin was taken a back, 「A k-kiss?」 he stuttered out, 「Why?」

「The Fae have named our price. Do you accept this bond?」

「You will tell me truthfully, everything you know about me and the meaning of 『Nefalim'?」

When the fae answered, it answered with a thousand voices that reverberated around Merlin's magic like the echoes of a spring in a cave.

「Yes.」

Merlin swallowed again, throat suddenly dry.

「O-okay. Okay then.」

*

「The fae are tricky creatures. They love to toy with mortal men and trap them with clever words and sharp wit. Their magic is…different, Merlin, and they will ensnare you if they can. You must be careful. Never take anything for granted, and be warned that they do not always speak the whole truth – oh yes, they _will_ speak the truth and nothing but the truth, for their laws say so. If they strike an oath, they must stand by their words or risk losing their magic.」

「I'll promise to be careful, Gaius.」

「Better yet, you could not go. Perhaps these books would-「

「Gaius, I want to know. I need to know. I don't know _what_ I am!」

A pause.

「Be careful.」

「I will.」

「Don't underestimate the Fae. They are powerful, and each one has ten times the magic of a sorcerer. Take this,」 and Gaius pressed a heavy silver pendant into Merlin's hand. The coldness of it seeped viciously into his soul and he nearly dropped it in pain, 「It has been…charmed to ward you against the glamours of the Fae. Wear it when you speak with them.」

「I will,」 lied Merlin.

*

「We are more alike than you think, Emrys,」 began the Fae, walking forwards to sit, elegantly, cross-legged on the grassy floor. Merlin hesitated, and then copied her actions, 「We share some blood, we are linked.」

「How?」 breathed Merlin, mesmerised by the colour of its eyes.

The Fae smiled at him, 「You are _Nefalim_,」 it said making a languid gesture, 「created by the essence of heaven and the love of a mortal woman. There has not been one like you for many, many lifetimes. So long that even many of the trees do not remember.」

「Wait,」 said Merlin, 「When you say the 『essence of heaven', what do you mean?」

The Fae looked at him for a long moment without speaking and Merlin thought, dispairingling, perhaps he was never going to get a straight answer out of the magical types. Merlin shifted slightly, his wings spread wide to either side of his body like a canopy of white, casting a large shadow in front of him.

「He was _of_ heaven,」 said the Fae at last, it's hand hovering over Merlin's feathers, as if wanting to touch but being too afraid to.

「Like an angel?」 said Merlin, eyes wide, 「Are you saying my _father_ was an Angel?」

The Fae sighed and ran its hand through the long grass in front of her instead, smoothing out the petals of a wild flower until it glowed within its hands.

「We know not of such human names. Those names come and go, but yes. Of Avalon, heaven, the old religion's guardians; you're father was no mortal, Emrys. And you are no common sorcerer. Your magic, it is like ours. You can taste it can't you, Emrys? Feel it in your very soul.」

Merlin's mind was reeling.

「Why did my mother not tell me any of this?」

The Fae smiled kindly, 「Perhaps she did not know.」

Merlin drew his wings back close to his body, hands pushing at the ground to stand when the Fae surged up onto its knees in a flurry of leaves and clasped both his wrists in its long fingered hands, face suddenly so close to Merlin's that their noses touched and he could smell the breath of sweet earth and dying berries.

「You are our immortal prince,」 it said, eyes glowing almost too bright, magic swirling about her like a storm, 「One of us, you're one of us _Nefalim, _Emrys, Emrys, Oh my Emrys,」 then the Fae's hands were cupping his face and its lips descended upon Merlin's.

He could taste magic now. It was foreign and familiar both at once, and his own magic surged up involuntarily, and there was an explosion of light behind his eyes like his nerves had been set on fire and he could see two sets of worlds, one from his own and another, alien from behind the Fae's eyes, the Fae who was still breathing the forest into Merlin's body and sucking his very memories from his mouth, flickers and flashes of Ealdor, Will, Arthur, Arthur, _Arthur_-

Then there was a screech of fury, loud and horrible – startled and spooked, Merlin's horse reared up and pulled free of its tether, galloping away into the forest. And a voice thundered within the very earth at Merlin's feet, making the forest shake, 「How dare you, how dare you take him for your own, Zephyr, _traitor! Traitor!_」 and the Fae was suddenly gone, and Merlin saw its face, scared but defiant, before everything vanished.

Swaying unsteadily, Merlin sank back down to his knees. He could still taste the kiss, the lingering magic like the sharp tang of rare oranges Arthur had once given him, disorientating. The last thing he heard was the forest breathing in time with his own racing heart before he passed out cold on the floor of the clearing.

*

In his dream, Arthur held him as he bled, his magic drained from him in an attempt to do _somethinganythingsaveArthur._ His blood tasted like copper coins in his mouth.

「You have to trust me more than this,」 said Arthur.

「I do. I trust you with my life,」 Merlin pleaded.

「I think we both know that's not true,」 said Arthur and let him go.

*

Merlin woke, shivering.

It was night, the forest pitch dark where trees hid the wane light of the moon. He was still in the clearing, his head aching as if he had run headlong into something. Merlin rubbed his eyes with a fist, trying to adjust to the darkness before he gave up and lit a blue orb of light with his right hand. It hovered around him, casting an eerie glow to the glade.

It was cold. Realising, suddenly, that he had no horse and absolutely no chance of finding his way out of the forest in the dark, Merlin wrapped his wings closer around himself and settled at the foot of a large tree, curling into the dip made by soft earth and thick roots. He would have to wait until morning. Slowly, he let the blue light wink out.

*

In his dream, Arthur asked again, in a meadow full of sunlight and spring flowers;

「Merlin. Do you trust me?」

「Yes,」 Merlin breathed into his mouth.

Arthur pulled away.

「I don't think you do,」 he said.

「Why not?」 said Merlin, and Arthur's eyes were the same colour as the sky overhead when he looked straight back into Merlin's own.

「I guess that's the real question, isn't it?」

*

The coolness of an early morning rain woke Merlin this time, droplets landing on his face and coating his wings in a wet, freezing sheen of water. He stretched, standing with a groan as the sun pierced through the canopy above and into his eyes.

There was no sign of the Fae. Or Merlin's horse.

Resigned, Merlin took one last look around the clearing and turned his back on it, walking in what he hoped was the right direction. He was enormously relieved when he spotted a little brown forest trail an hour later and followed that until he came to an unfamiliar stream. Merlin stopped short. There hadn't been a stream the day before.

Perhaps this was the wrong trail? Was he walking in the wrong direction? Merlin shaded his eyes with one hand and peered up and at the sun, trying to remember Arthur's lessons on how to use the sun to determine north, south, east and west. Which direction was Camelot in, again?

Merlin lowered his hand, biting his lip in worry and turning back the way he had come, walking quickly along the trail. Hours passed. The forest passed slowly by, the scenery beginning to blur together so that come noon, Merlin was well and truly lost. And hungry – his stomach cramped uncomfortably as he thought of the remaining apple in his pack and he stopped to pick some berries he recognised to keep his hunger at bay, before carrying on.

He tried using magic, like he had with the Fae – but with the fae, Merlin had already known what their magic felt like. And tracking magic with magic was much easier than tracking people, it seemed. He tried directing his thoughts at Arthur, and after a few long minutes of concentration, could make out a faint, gold presence, just out of reach. Merlin screwed his eyes shut and thought harder and there was a faint tug somewhere in his chest in a direction slightly left of the trail he was following, but the next moment the feeling was gone as it was swamped with _green_. Merlin sighed and obediently turned left to trudge off the trail and into the forest.

Incidentally, Merlin discovered something strange. It happened first with a few brown sparrows, chittering in the branch he had just walked passed and then taking off in a flurry of tiny wings. Then, after fifteen minutes of walking, Merlin realised that the chittering had not stopped. He was being followed by a group of sparrows. One landed on his _head_ and Merlin stood very, very still until it took off again.

It was difficult to get a firm grip on Arthur- and Camelot's- position. Merlin didn't know whether this was because of the distance, or because he had never tried such things before or because Arthur moved around too much. Sometimes the tugs would be more insistent, and in these times Merlin would start running, hoping to cover as much distance as possible before he was forced to guess his way again.

The sparrows followed him all the way to the edge of the forest, by which time it was already late afternoon and the sight of the road was never more welcoming. In a loud, distant screech, the sparrows all scattered in every direction and Merlin barely had time to look up before something golden and large was barrelling straight for his face from above. Merlin flung up an arm to shield himself and there was a collision of weight and feathers as rough claws clamped tight around his forearm, making Merlin wince. He opened his eyes, tentatively, and gave a yell of surprise at two golden eyes and sharp beak of a falcon, staring unblinkingly back. It looked unimpressed. There was a dead field mouse clutched in its beak.

「Uh…」 said Merlin, 「Hello?」

It flexed its talons in a rather menacing fashion and Merlin winced again. The claws were terribly sharp and they were cutting right through his sleeves. In a sudden moment of inspiration, Merlin reached out slowly with his free hand, still holding the other (and the falcon) at arms length) for the dead mouse. The bird dropped the corpse into Merlin's palm, ruffled its feathers, and took off, making Merlin stagger. Merlin dropped the mouse. Then felt guilty and buried it in loose dirt at the foot of a sapling before taking to the road at a run.

It had taken half a day to ride out to the forest on horseback. It was nearly nightfall by the time Merlin reached the castle gates (thankfully still open) and the situation was not improved when one of the one of the guards gave a shout at the sight of Merlin and ran off towards the castle whilst another stopped him in his tracks.

「His majesty Prince Arthur has been looking for you,」 said the guard disapprovingly, and Merlin thought _crap_ as he walked into the shadow of the castle and into the courtyard. Perhaps he could sneak back to Gaius's rooms without anyone noticing…

「Where the _hell_ have you been?!」 came an angry shout from over his shoulder and Merlin turned just in time to meet a backhanded slap across the face. He reeled backwards from the force of the blow, shocked, but Arthur had him by the shoulders and was shaking him like a rag doll. In the edge of his vision, Merlin could see people stopping and staring. Arthur's expression was livid.

「Arthur!」 said Merlin, startled because he had never seen him lose his temper like this, 「What-」

「You were meant to be back by nightfall!」 continued Arthur, voice still at a shout, face inches away, 「Yesterday!」

Merlin stared, wide eyed into Arthur's face, and he tried to pull back but the grip on his arms were vicelike to the point of pain.

「I was on an errand for Gaius like I said, ow!- Arthur, 『leggo, you're hurting me.」

Arthur began tugging him back into the castle, one hand still gripped around Merlin's upper arm and he was walking so fast Merlin was stumbling to keep up. Their footsteps echoed loudly off the stone walls of the corridor as Arthur marched them up a flight of stairs and then another.

「Don't lie to me, Merlin. Don't you _dare_. When you failed to return yesterday Gaius confessed that were _not _on some imaginary errand, though he refused to tell me where you went. So tell me, Merlin, _where the hell have you been?_」

Merlin floundered, mind blank in the face of Arthur's fury, heart racing in his chest. But he couldn't tell Arthur. He simply _couldn't._

「I don't- I was in the forest I just got lost, Arthur-」

「This is becoming an unfortunate reoccurrence, isn't it?」 came a voice and Merlin was horrified to discover Uther standing there. Arthur pulled back from Merlin but his arm still gripped his arm. There was going to be bruises.

「Father,」 said Arthur, stiffly, face still blanched with anger. Merlin kept his gaze to the floor, but they snapped up when Uther said, carelessly, as if the last time they had met, Merlin had not saved him from a slow and painful death.

「Disobedience will not be tolerated in this castle,」 turning to Arthur, he said with equal nonchalance, 「You should have him flogged. Ten lashes should do it.」

Merlin felt his entire being go cold, and he stared at Uther in horror and defiance.

Arthur was a statue beside him.

「I will see to his punishment myself, Father.」

「Be sure that you do,」 said Uther before sweeping off in a flurry of expensive clothing.

Arthur half dragged Merlin along the corridors until they reached the double doors of Arthur's chambers. The prince threw open the doors and threw Merlin into the room before slamming the doors shut behind them with a bang that made Merlin flinch. He wondered what it would feel like to be flogged. He wondered how much it would hurt – oh god, his wings!

「Arthur, please, I-」

「You will tell me. Where. You. Have. Been,」 said Arthur coldly.

Merlin swallowed, throat working. At last, he said something that was almost not a lie.

「I went back to the forest. The one where we met the…Fae.」

Arthur looked surprised for a moment; the expression flitting across his features before it was wiped clean again, showing nothing but silent anger.

「They said they knew about my father,」 said Merlin in a rush, the half lie hanging in the air of the room like the thread of a spider web – grey and fragile.

「Your Father?」 asked Arthur.

「My mother never spoke of him. I've never met him.」

There was a long silence.

「Why didn't you just tell me the truth?」 asked Arthur, and Merlin didn't have an answer to give. He adverted his eyes carefully, tracing the lines on the ground at his feet. His silence made Arthur laugh. It was an ugly sound, bitter. The prince strode across to his table as if to put more distance between the two of them.

「I thought you had been waylaid by bandits,」 said Arthur a moment later, voice strained. A surge of guilt welled up within Merlin's chest. 「Guards were sent out to search for you. Have you any idea how wor – after Edwin nearly- _you will look at me when I am speaking to you!_」

Merlin almost jumped at the sudden rise in volume and his eyes obediently snapped up. Arthur's voice broke off, and his hands were white knuckled on the back of his chair.

「I'm sorry,」 said Merlin, the memory of Edwin making him shiver and he realised what possibilities must have been running through Arthur's mind when he didn't return yesterday, 「I'm sorry, Arthur, I just…lost track of time. I…please.」

When Arthur made no reply, Merlin mentally steeled his shoulders and said into the tense silence:

「Well. We might as well get it over with.」

Arthur looked at him then, face still tense but raising an eyebrow.

「Excuse me?」 he said.

Merlin swallowed. 「Flogging,」 he said quietly, wings trembling at the thought.

Arthur glared at him, but his expression softened slightly.

「I'm not having you flogged, Merlin.」

Merlin blinked. 「But your father said-「

「I know what my father said.」

「Then-「

「Merlin, do you _want_ to be flogged?」

Merlin shook his head.

「Then shut up.」

They stood there, watching the light disappearing from the window, its little shaft of gold withdrawing on the floor, the triangle growing smaller and smaller until it faded away into shadow. The left side of his face still stung from the blow, and Merlin reached to touch it tentatively with cool fingers. He let out a hiss of pain. Arthur sighed and made his way around the table, slowly approached.

「I apologise,」 he said stiffly, and Merlin looked up with surprise, 「I shouldn't have hit you.」

Merlin shrugged, relieved that Arthur's anger had all but disappeared.

「Deserved it,」 said Merlin, looking away again. Then, mustering up a half grin, he said, 「Were you worried about me?」

Arthur didn't smile back, and Merlin's expression faltered.

「You will never deceive me again,」 said Arthur, 「Do I have your word?」

Merlin stared at the unlit fire and thought about his magic , his wings, his father; who and what he was and felt as if the gulf between him and Arthur had never been so wide, even though they were standing close enough to touch. He wanted to let it all go and take that jump, tell Arthur who he really was and damn the consequences. But Merlin had never known how to fly.

「Yes, sire,」 he said, his chest aching under the weight of it all.

*

In his dream, Uther doesn't take Excalibur because Merlin is the prince's man and he warns Arthur not to drink anything Gaius gives him. Drugged.

And in the morning, it is Arthur who wakes at first light and Arthur who Merlin dresses with careful ands and Arthur who unsheathes Excalibur and says, 「It's beautiful, Merlin.」

It's Arthur who strides into the arena to face Tristan Dubois, Arthur who bleeds from the arm when the knight moves, lightening fast and it is Arthur who falls under the force of a supernatural blow. And Merlin leaps, flies over the edge of the stands and he peels the spell away from his wings with one great intake of breath. Merlin lands to the right of the knight, wings out stretched, and he reaches out a hand. As soon as his palm connects with its armour, it lets out a scream, there's a glow of white light and Arthur is back on his feet and Merlin watches as the golden blade of Excalibur strikes the knight through the chest and it explodes into a million pieces of ash...

Then Arthur turns back to him in the light of the morning sun, hair as gold as the magic in Merlin's veins, face triumphant and _happy_.

「You have wings!」 he exclaims, mouth curved upwards in an incredulous laugh, 「My god you have wings! They're beautiful, Merlin.」

And Merlin wakes, sobbing into his pillow.

*

--

[A/N] I'm updating here quickly so we'll be up to date. :P I do hope you are enjoying this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. And comments are love!


	8. part vii

**.vii**

_It well may be, that we will never meet again in this lifetime,  
So let me say before we part:  
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?  
But because I knew you  
I have been changed for good._

- For good, by Wicked.

*

「Destiny can never be denied,」 said the Dragon, 「It can only be delayed.」

*

When Hunith saw Merlin, her hands flew up to her mouth in a horrified gasp and she tore her way through the mid-morning crowd to get to him, eyes wide and terrified.

「Mother!」 said Merlin, hefting the pail of water so it wouldn't spill, 「What are you doing here?」

His mother was looking around frantically, eyes darting back to his face, and then his wings.

「Merlin, Merlin what are you doing?!」

Then it clicked.

「No- don't panic!」 said Merlin quickly, 「They can't see. It's alright, you can see because it's the spell, it's part of the spell-」

「Shhh!」 said Hunith, finger to her lips and still looking worried. But as the rest of the citizens strolled past without stopping to stare, she must have been persuaded that Merlin's wings were indeed invisible. It must have spooked her, seeing his wings out in the open amongst so many people.

「I'll explain up at the castle, Mother…Mother,」 Merlin stopped, his hand coming up to frame the dark bruise under one eye. 「Who did this?」

*

He knew Morgana was probably packing half the amoury into her bags at this very instant. Gwen would no doubt be going. His father could not stop them, and he could not stop Arthur, either. But the King could stop the Prince. Arthur dropped his face into his hands, letting the wind whip through his hair. He looked out over the sprawling rooftops of Camelot, and the faint green and brown of fields beyond, colours faded with the coming winter. If he couldn't help defend his people from bandits like Kanen, then what use was he?

If he couldn't defend _Merlin_ then what _use_ was he?

He wondered if his Father could understand it if he went with Merlin. But the warning signs, the veiled threats, his _unseemly attachment_ all made it very clear that his Father disapproved. Of Merlin himself or of Arthur's devotion to him, Arthur couldn't quite tell.

He heard Merlin coming before Merlin appeared, just like that night when he had given him his Mother's ring. That time seemed a long, long time ago, though it had barely been a fortnight. Merlin came up to stand beside him, leaning on the rough stone work.

Arthur turned to him, reluctant to break the easy silence between them.

「I'm sorry,」 he said, 「If it were up to me, we'd be on our way there now.」

Merlin shrugged, a faint smile on his face.

「Well, you tried. And thank you for getting an audience with the king…」

「I wish that Camelot was able to help people regardless of how far away they lived,」 said Arthur, trying to apologize because he _could not disobey his own father._ Merlin smiled as if he understood what Arthur was not saying. _Sorry that I can't help you._

His fingers reached up and fingered the gold chain at his neck, by which Arthur knew the ring hung. He could see the faint outline of it through Merlin's thin blue shirt.

「I'm going back to Ealdor,」 said Merlin.

For a moment, Arthur's next breath wouldn't come, lodge in his throat at the tone of Merlin's voice, his eyes open and honest and it was like Arthur could pick Merlin up and look right through him; his thoughts sad and clear. But he could go a week without his manservant. A few weeks, even. He would be fine.

「Of course,」 said Arthur.

「It's been an honor serving you,」 said Merlin, and Arthur turned to him sharply.

「You'll be coming back?」 It was meant to be an order, but instead it came out sounding more like a question and Arthur _hated_ how unsure he sounded, the hope in his own voice. He knew what Merlin's answer would be before he gave it, the reply evident in the expression on his face.

「She's my mother,」 said Merlin with almost a laugh, 「I've got to look after her before anyone else. You understand?」

Arthur nodded, even though he didn't.

「I'd do exactly the same,」 he said, and he supposed he might, if he had ever known his mother.

Arthur couldn't pull his eyes away from the chain between Merlin's fingers. It was as if both of them were waiting for the other to say something, the silence stretching longer and longer and Arthur thought of all the things he had and all the things he wanted and he wished he could be selfless enough to not care and let Merlin go. Perhaps his father was right. He was getting too attached. Nothing good would ever come of it.

「Well, just so you know. You've been terrible,」 said Arthur, and his voice broke something between them. The raw moment was gone, hidden again under their usual layer of banter. Merlin laughed, and Arthur continued, wanting to make him laugh for a little longer, eyes lingering on his cheekbones and the curve of his mouth as he smiled, all teeth and dimples. 「Really, I mean it. _The_ worst servant I've ever hand.」

Merlin favored him with a grin, and said,

「Thank you, sire.」

Then he turned away from the balcony, away from Arthur and walked back towards the entrance to the castle.

Arthur watched him until he disappeared from sight, then turned back and stared back over Camelot.

*

Gwen passed a heavy bundle over, wrapped in cloth and clinking.

「I've packed some armour for you,」 she said, and Merlin looked dubiously at his pack, already stuffed full of the spare jacket and blanket.

「I won't be able to carry all that!」

「You won't have to,」 came Morgana's voice from the doorway, 「We're coming with you.」

「You're going to need all the help you can get,」 added Gwen.

Merlin's heart swelled with something warm, and clutching the armour he said, 「Yeah. Yeah, you're right.」

*

「How cool would it be to be a knight?」 asked Will for the millionth time that day, sharpening the end of a wooden branch into a point. It was gradually taking the shape of a sword, thought Merlin, the emphasis being on 『gradually'. 「Killing bandits and going to feasts!」 His pocket knife slipped off the end of the branch in his enthusiasm and Will nearly impaled his toe.

「Are you going to be a Knight then?」 asked Merlin, because he knew it was the right question to ask.

Will rolled his eyes.

「Duh,」 he said, beginning to lash a cross-bit to the branch, to make up the pommel, 「What else am I going to be? Chicken farmer?」

Merlin shrugged. He liked chickens.

「Oh my god, Muuurlin, you aren't going to be a chicken farmer are you? That was the most boring thing I could think of! Don't you want to do more with your life?」

「I'm ten,」 said Merlin sensibly, 「I don't know what I want to do with my life.」

「Well, at least you should know what you _don't_ want to be doing with it. Chicken farmer being the top of the list.」

「What have you got against chickens?」 asked Merlin, feeling offended on behalf of his mother's chickens. There were a dozen of them living in a little fenced off yard, and they laid a batch of eggs dutifully every morning. Merlin liked eggs too, though he didn't like watching people kill the chickens. It made him feel sick to see bloody feathers everywhere.

「Nothing. I like chickens. Eating them,」 said Will.

「Well then.」

「I'm not going to stay in this little village forever,」 said Will, oblivious to the stricken expression on Merlin's face, 「As soon as I'm able, I'm going to go to the city and become a Knight.」

「You can't leave!」 protested Merlin, jumping up from the log he had been sitting on, 「What about your mother?」

「I think she'd be proud of me,」 said Will.

「But the city is so far away!」

「You have no sense of adventure, Merlin.」

「I do!」

「Well, why are you so scared then? You can't be a knight if you're so scared of everything.」

「I don't want to be a knight,」 said Merlin, sulkily, 「I just want to be me.」

Will finished his sword and stood up also, waving it around in what probably thought was an impression manner but just made him look demented. At least, that's what Merlin thought, though secretly he wanted a sword too. A little. He squawked when Will whacked him on the shin with it.

「Imagine a city, Merlin. So much more interesting than this boring old place.」

Merlin darted out of the way of Will's poking sword, laughing.

「I guess I'll come with you then,」 he said, 「When we're old enough.」

「Definitely,」 said Will, and tripped him up.

When Merlin left for Camelot, Will was nowhere to be seen.

*

They stopped for the night in the forest, about another day's ride to Ealdor. Long after Morgana and Gwen had settled down to sleep, Merlin remained vigilant by the fire, the sparks still burning a warm orange at his feet. There was no Arthur to order him to go looking for more firewood, and no Arthur to tell him to go to 『go get some rest, idiot.』 He missed Arthur like a physical ache, and Merlin sat on the edge of the fallen tree, leaving enough room for Arthur- if he had been there. His wings blocked out most of the cold wind, a familiar weight on his back as he stretched them out as far as they could go, trying to see if they had grown any bigger. There was a rustling of leaves and Merlin turned to see Hunith sitting down beside him.

「They've grown,」 she said, running a gentle hand down the crest one wing, 「Haven' they?」

Merlin nodded, but didn't reply.

「They shouldn't be here,」 said Hunith after a while, her voice hushed, 「Especially the Lady Morgana. Isn't she the King's ward?」

Merlin smiled at the thought.

「Not that you'd know it. She's the only person I know who isn't frightened of him.」

「It won't make any differences to Kanen that they're women.」

「I know. But I couldn't talk them out of coming,」 impulsively, he touched the bruise on his mother's face, fingers lingering as the magic spiraled down his fingers. The bruise faded from her skin as he pulled away, and his felt a new throbbing pain on his own cheek. 「I'll make him pay for what he did to you,」 he said and Hunith made a sound in her throat.

「Merlin!」 she admonished, expression faintly horrified, 「I forbade you to do that! You must never do it again!」

Merlin grinned, and then winced at the pain. His mother ran her fingers over the bruise that was now under Merlin's eye, dark and purple.

「Promise me you'll be careful. No one can find out about you,」 she said, looking at the arch of his wings, white and almost luminescent in the dark. Her eyes were full of worry, and Merlin couldn't bear it. He thought of Lancelot and Edwin and mirrors and Arthur.

「They won't,」 he said, because it was true. The one person that he wanted most to know had no idea. 「They never do.」

Merlin woke in the middle of the night, startled awake by the sound of…footsteps?

He reached for his sword and clambered as silently as he could out of the warm nest of his bedding. The night was dark, and he was tempted to conjure up another light orb but restrained himself. Someone could see.

There was another rustle, then the feeling of the point of a blade at the small of his back, just between his wings.

「I'd ask you for money, but I know you don't have any,」 said a very familiar voice and he whipped around in surprised delight, sword still out. It went whistling alarmingly over Arthur's head as he ducked. Merlin stepped back quickly.

「Oops. Arthur?」

The prince straightened, giving his manservant a pointed glare and sheathed his own sword.

「Put the sword down Merlin, you look ridiculous,」 and stomped off towards their camp site. Merlin half ran, half skipped after him, filled with a sudden rush of happiness that warmed him from the chest to the tip of his wings.

That night, Merlin heard the forest talking.

*

They arrived just in time to fight off Kanen's men who had come to collect the harvest. It's chaos and swords and the bolts snapping out of crossbows and Merlin has no time to even contemplate using magic before Arthur's tossing him a sword and he's fighting off a brigand. There was no time to think, no time for Merlin to adjust to seeing the place he had grew up in and had not seen for more than a year and a half. No time, and he caught flashes of Arthur and Morgana almost _dancing_ through the fray, swords moving so fast they were silver blurs, cutting down the intruders left right and-

Merlin's head was nearly chopped in half when one of Kanen's men appeared suddenly in front of him, axe slashing and he parried the blow, barely, the shock of it rattling his arms to their sockets. The bandit kept advancing until Merlin was pressed up against the door of a nearby barn house, desperately looking about for Arthur. The man made a swipe and Merlin tried dodging and the blade just missed his right wing, cut feathers fluttering into the mud at their feet. The axe and his sword screeched against each other, the edges slipping-

「Arthur!」 shouted Merlin over the din, 「A little help here!」

And then a sword tip appeared in the middle of his assailant's chest and he fell backwards with a _thump_, revealing Arthur who didn't even look out of breath as he turned to dispatch another man, grinning at Merlin as he went, his smile full of teeth.

It wasn't long before Kanen and his remaining men retreated, the ones still on horses galloping away into the fringe of the forest. Kanen himself snarled, 「You will pay for this! You will pay with your lives!」 before turning also and cantering away in a cloud of dust.

「You alright?」 called Arthur, but Merlin didn't hear because there was Will, standing less than five meters away, staring at Merlin's wings. The next moment, they were suddenly face to face, and there was an uncertain silence where Merlin wondered if Will was going to punch him.

Then he said, face stony,

「I thought I made it clear that we didn't want your kind around here,」 before his face broke into a grin and Merlin felt his own smile break across his face and then they were hugging each other and it was like Merlin had never left. Over Will's shoulder, Merlin saw Hunith shake her head with a fond smile and completely missed the startled expression on Arthur's.

「Missed you too, Will,」 said Merlin, grinning when they pulled apart.

「So, uh」 said Will, eyes still glued to Merlin's wings, 「They've.」 He stretched his arms out to indicate growing, a ridiculous expression on his face that made Merlin want to burst out laughing. He stretched his own arms out.

「What?」 he said, innocently.

「Wow. Y'know. I'm guessing you worked some mojo on them, because no one seems surprised that there's a giant chicken standing right here.」

Merlin shoved him in the shoulder, laughing, 「The only chicken here is you, stupid.」

「Stupid? Me? I heard you've skivvying for some prince now. Who's the stupid one?」

Merlin raised his eyebrows.

「Skivvy? Nah, I-」

And that's when Arthur decided to call, 「Merlin. Merlin! Gather the villagers. I need to talk to them.」

Merlin half turned, dismissive, 「Yeah, alright, in a minute I'm just talki-」

「_Now_, Merlin.」

Merlin sighed, 「Yes, sire,」 he said before running after Arthur, just catching Will's trademark 『what the fuck?』 expression out of the corner of his eye.

Things quickly went downhill.

He could tell at once that Will didn't like Arthur _at all_.

Will's house was much the same. The furniture unchanged since the last time he had been here. Will was alternating between kicking over the chair and straightening it; a habitual pacing wearing a groove into the ground.

「He knows what he's doing,」 said Merlin, after a moment of watching Will pace, 「You've got to trust him.」

Will looked up at that, and he looked as if he was about to interrupt so Merlin plowed on quickly, 「Look, when I first met Arthur, I was exactly like you – I hated him. I thought he was pompous and arrogant.」

Will snorted and kicked over the chair.

「Well, nothing's changed there, then.」

「But in time, I came to respect him for what he stands for, what he does- Will,」

But Will was obviously angry that Merlin decided to take Arthur's side over his, the hurt clear as day in the sarcastic slash of his mouth.

「I know what he stands for. Princes, Kings, all men like him.」

「Will, don't bring what happened to your father-」

But Merlin had overstepped a line. 「I'm not!」 shouted Will, 「Why are you defending him so much? You're just his bloody _servant_.」

Merlin's face felt hot.

「He's also my friend!」

Will laughed derisively, 「Have you been brainwashed or something? Princes don't make friends with servants, Muuurlin.」

Merlin spluttered, 「Of course I haven't- He isn't like that.」

Will folded his arms, 「Really? Well let's wait until the fighting begins and see who he sends in to die first. I guarantee you it won't be him.」

The conversation was slipping from Merlin's fingers like fine sand, and he wondered when Will and him began standing on opposite sides. He had almost forgotten there was two Wills: the one before and the one after his father died. This Will he didn't quite recognize, even with the well worn pendant hanging from his neck.

「I trust Arthur with my life,」 said Merlin, echoing his dream self.

Will's expression was downright cynical, and his words cut Merlin like ice.

「Is that so?」 he sneered, 「So he knows your secret then?」 Will gestured to Merlin's wings, expansive and almost too large for the room they were in, 「Face it Merlin. You're living a lie just like you were here. You're Arthur's servant, nothing more. Otherwise, you'd tell him the truth.」

「I will tell him-「

「Would you have told me, if I hadn't found out about your wings?」

「Will-」

「No,」 Will answered for him, shaking his head, face twisted, 「You wouldn't have. Do you know why? Because you're a coward. A coward! You don't trust anyone and the only one you care about is yourself. You didn't trust me, so you left. You're not going to trust _him_ either. You're just going to run and run and run and never face up to truth-「

Merlin left before he could hear the rest of that sentence, fingernails digging crescent moons into the palm of his hand.

*

Merlin avoided Will the next day, gathering wood for Arthur and the villagers to use as practice-swords whilst they prepared for Kanen's attack the day after. It felt strange to see faces he had known almost all his life, looking back at him as if he were a stranger: visitors from Camelot. Foreigners. Then again, he wondered if he had ever belonged here. And as he watched Will's sullen silhouette, standing at the edge of the practice field they had set up, he realised he had only ever felt tethered here because of his friend and Hunith. Now he had Arthur.

「Thanks,」 said Arthur gratefully, when Merlin handed him some bread, hard cheese and salted meat for lunch instead of the gruel Hunith had given them. Merlin had saved the packed food he had brought with him from Camelot because he knew Arthur couldn't really stomach gruel and would probably go hungry out of politeness. Merlin nibbled on a wedge of cheese, savoring it.

「How are they going?」 he asked, and Arthur sighed.

「I don't- they're not soldiers and I'm treating them like they are. I don't know if…」

「You can't give up, Arthur,」 said Merlin with as much bravado as he could muster.

Arthur turned to him, his food already finished, and his eyes lingered on the bruise still visible beneath Merlin's eye.

「I can't believe you walked into a tree,」 said Arthur at last, 「The way you are, you should probably keep out of the fighting tomorrow before you impale the wrong person with your sword.」

Merlin smiled and gave Arthur the rest of his cheese.

_」Why did you leave?」_

_「I…didn't fit in, I guess. I wanted to find somewhere I could belong.」_

_「Had any luck?」_

*

「Why did you leave?」 asked Will. Merlin turned, an armful of firewood in his arms, eyes wary.

Merlin put the bundle of wood on the ground and sat on a fallen tree, dark and wet with moss.

「It wasn't what I wanted…I mean, my mother was worried. When she found out you knew, she was so angry.」

「I wouldn't have told anyone,」 said Will.

「I know you wouldn't.」

A long silence stretched between them.

Will was studying his face. 「You'd be able to defeat Kanen on your own, wouldn't you?」

Merlin looked up. 「I'm not sure. Maybe,」 he said, toeing a line in the dirt.

「So what's stopping you?」 demanded Will, bluntly, 「So what if Arthur finds out?」

Merlin kept his gaze to the ground.

「I don't expect you to understand.」

「Try me,」 said Will.

_Because I think I love him._ thought Merlin, _Because I don't think I could bear it if he hated me._ But out loud, he said, 「One day Arthur will be a great king. But he needs my help and if anyone ever found out about my magic or my wings, I'd have to leave Camelot for good.」

「He needs _your_ help?」 said Will, and his face was twisted in that ugly expression again and Merlin felt anger flare up in his chest like a tongue of flame.

「Yes. I'm supposed to protect him! It's my destiny to-」

「Are you telling me,」 interrupted Will, 「That you'd rather keep your magic secret for _Arthur's_ sake than use it to protect your friends and family?」

「You know I can't. If I use my magic, I have to leave Ealdor too – Will, you know I _can't._ I won't have anywhere to go to, Arthur would-」

「Why the hell is he here anyway? This isn't his fight!」

「Arthur's here because he is a good man, who would fight for his friends! Are you going to just abandon Ealdor?」

Will stood up abruptly, and so did Merlin.

「What, like you did?」

「This isn't about you, Will. I didn't abandon you, I had to leave because my mother feared for my life, if you can't understand that-」

「Oh, I understand enough,」 said Will, voice harsh, 「From what I understand, you would rather keep your magic secret, keep _what you are_ a secret so you can lust after that prince of yours-「

「I do not-「

Will ignored him, words growing sharper and sharper.

「And let your friends and family die!」

「You're the one leaving!」 shouted Merlin, 「You're the one too cowardly to fight tomorrow!」

「At least I'm not the one who is going to stand by and watch people die!」 Will shouted back.

Merlin felt as if he had been punched in the gut, all the air leaving his lungs so that he felt sick at the words.

「I don't even know who you are anymore,」 spat Will and he reached up, grasped the pendant still resting on his chest from a lifetime ago and wrenched it from his throat, snapping the black string with a vicious tug. He threw in the dirt at Merlin's feet before turning on his heels and walking away, leaving Merlin standing alone on the edge of the forest.

For a long moment, Merlin only stared at the discarded wooden charm and struggled not to cry.

When Merlin was thirteen, his feathers went through molting. Will thought it was the most hilarious thing in the entire _world_, and wouldn't stop laughing.

「Well, think about it,」 he said, once he had calmed down enough to manage coherent speech, 「Now you can use those feathers to stuff your pillow. It would be awesome!」 then he cracked up again.

Merlin scowled, and punched him in the arm. He had to admit, asides from the itching and the trail of feathers all over the house, he did look rather ridiculous. He shifted his wings under the material of his shirt uncomfortably.

「You look like a chicken,」 said Will, and then proceeded to imitate a chicken to the best of his ability.

Merlin's eyes glowed gold, and he upended a pail of water over Will's stupid head.

「This is so on!」 said Will, emerging, spluttering, from beneath the pail and he lunged for Merlin, who didn't quite manage to dodge fast enough and they both went, sprawling on the ground, laughing and throwing mock punches at each other.

「Aww, it's okay, Murrrrlin,」 said Will, trapping Merlin with both knees and proceeding to cheat. Tickling. 「I'll still love you even if you look like a plucked turkey for the rest of your life.」

Merlin magicked the empty pail and dropped it over Will's face in retaliation

「Whatever happens out there today…」 Merlin had refused armour, saying it would only drag him down. He argued it would be better and more practical to give it to men who could actually fight. Arthur had shouted at him not to be stupid, and Merlin had shouted back. But in the end, Merlin won.

Of course, it was because he couldn't fit armour over his wings.

「…Don't think too badly of me.」

Arthur, resplendent in his armour, gave him a strange look, his arm lingering on Merlin's as Merlin finished tying off one of the buckles.

「If there's something you want to say, Merlin, now's the time to say it.」

_I wish I could tell you._ thought Merlin, _ I wish I could tell you everything _and _I love you,_ and _thank you_ and _ please don't hate me._ He could tell Arthur now. He could strip the concealment away from his wings and show him and perhaps, perhaps he wouldn't-

「They've crossed the river,」 said Morgana from the doorway, and Merlin's courage failed him.

*

His wings were proving to be a real hazard. They were too big, making it hard to maneuver through the chaos and Merlin was finding it difficult to dodge the arc of a blade whilst trying to fend off another in front of him. Twice, the bite of metal had sliced through his feathers, and there was a stinging cut somewhere in the slope of his wings that bled red onto the white feathers.

Someone yelled out a warning, and Merlin turned just in time to parry a blow that would have slashed deep into the arch of his right wing, and after stabbing the man in the thigh, effectively decapitating him, Merlin looked around wildly for his rescuer.

It was Will.

「Saved your arse!」 Will yelled, knocking a man out with the blunt end of a spear and fighting his way towards Merlin.

「Will, you came back!」

「You need to use it now!」 said Will, ignoring the comment altogether, 「Merlin, now!」

There was a trickle of blood down the side of Will's head, and Merlin looked desperately around him at the chaos. He couldn't see Arthur anywhere. Like so many things in his life, it seemed that in the end, there really was no choice.

The two of them stood side by side, and with a deep breath, Merlin held out his right hand, palm facing downwards and reached for his magic.

A wind grew at Merlin's feet, rapidly spinning further and further out until it was a small storm, whipping dust and people everywhere, Merlin directing the freak wind after Kanen's men.

It was all over very quickly.

Will cheered , clapping Merlin hard on the back when the bandits rode off into the forest, the rest of them bleeding or already dead upon the ground. Morgana and Gwen were hugging eachother, laughing with relief and exhilaration. But Merlin's grin slipped from his face when he saw Arthur, hair tousled from the wind, striding towards them, eyes bright with anger.

「Which of you did it?」 he demanded, sword still held aloft, 「Wind like that doesn't appear out of nowhere, _which one of you did it?_」

Merlin felt as if his blood had been turned to ice as he stared into Arthur's eyes and could feel the truth reflected in his own.

「Arthur-」 he began,

「Watch out!」 Will shouted, barreling into Arthur with his shoulder, pushing him out of the way. Then he staggered and fell, an arrow protruding from his chest. Ten feet away, Kanen dropped to the ground, dead.

「Will!」

「We need to get him inside!」

「_Will!_」

*

_Have you ever thought what life would be like, without your… you know._

_Magic or wings?_

_Both._

_Yes._

_Yes what?_

_I've thought about it._

_And?_

_…Have you ever thought about what life with be like without being to see? It's like that, I think. Even if sometimes you don't like what you see, there really isn't a choice. You are who you are, and I am who I am._

*

They laid Will on the dining table of Mr. Simmon's house, closest, as Will coughed up blood, the red seeping rapidly around the wound, soaking his shirt and Merlin's hands. There was no physician. Everyone knew there was no physician, and Will was bleeding to death in front of Merlin.

「That's twice, I've saved you,」 said Will, voice shaking slightly with the effort, and Arthur stared at him.

「Twice?」

「It was me,」 said Will, and Merlin felt his heart clench painfully, 「I'm the one who used the magic.」

「Will, don't-「

「It's alright, Merlin.」 Will paused to cough, body trembling uncontrollably, 「I won't' be alive long enough for anyone to do anything to me.」 He looked past Merlin's shoulder at Arthur. 「I saw how desperate things were becoming. I h-had to do something.」

「You're a sorcerer?」

When Will answered, he wasn't looking at Arthur. He was looking straight at Merlin.

「Yeah. Yeah, what are you going to do, kill me?」

Merlin hadn't realised he was crying until a teardrop soaked a dark splatter into the shoulder of Will's shirt.

「No, of course not,」 said Arthur, voice quiet and unsure.

「Will. Will, no- _no, no, no, no_ please, Will-」

Will grinned up at him, teeth stained with his own blood, throat working.

「I was right about him,」 he coughed again, wetly, 「I told you he was going to get me killed.」

Merlin clutched at his hands. The room was deserted, someone having ushered the villagers out to give Merlin and Will some time to say goodbye. But Merlin didn't need that. He didn't need to say goodbye because Will wasn't going to - he was going to be alright.

「You're not going to die. Will-「

「You're a good friend, Merlin. I'm sorry I-「 he choked, chest seizing, 「sorry, didn't mean the things I s-said-「

「Will- no, shutup, Will,」 Merlin was blabbering, hysterical, 「Why did you take off your necklace? It would have saved you, why-「

「This p-place has been…boring…without you. Don't leave a-again, I lo-」 Will trailed off, his grip on Merlin's hand loosening and Merlin fumbled.

「No. No, won't leave, won't leave…」 he chanted, ripping aside Will's shirt. 「Will?」 He snapped and removed the arrowhead, placing both hands on the arrow wound, palm soaked red with Will's blood.

「I said _you're not going to die_!」

He wrenched up the power within himself, almost choking with it, magic barreling through him into Will in a wave of gold. Edwin's voice; _ To save a life, a life must be given – the universe needs to retain that balance, _ and all Merlin thought was, _yes, yes, take mine, take mine _and the wound was knitting itself together under Merlin's fingers.

Then pain stabbed through his own chest, razor cold, and Merlin lost his grip on Will, felt himself falling backwards. The magic was rushing back into his body, concealment charm swept away as all his magic attempted to heal the fatal wound.

He was gone before his body hit the floor.

*

--

**[A/N]** Sorry for the spam-speed at which I'm updating here - i've just finished parts 9 & 10, and because they are so long due to microsoft word's stupid excessive HTMLs, it's actually easier for me to update here first, and the copy&paste to LJ. Lucky you. ;) Thank you all for the lovely, lovely reviews, and the lurking readers too; thanks for reading!

3 Fishy.


	9. part viii

**.viii**

*

_「Why do you have so much faith in me, Merlin?」_

_「I know you'll always do what you think is right.」_

At the time, Arthur had agreed.

*

Merlin was in the forest where the Fae lived.  
The trees were not that of an autumn ending, but lush with green, the fading forest path edged with rotten gold. There was no birdsong, and Merlin rubbed his eyes with the heel of a palm. He could not see the sky from where he stood, and his wings brushed the tree bark, feathers catching. He was naked.

The path led through the circle of pale mushrooms in the middle of the clearing, and perhaps it was the trick of the light, but Merlin could not see where it continued. The world wavered, as if his eyes were not accustomed to seeing, his ears gone deaf. There was hollowness in the glade, as if all the magic had been sucked from the air and the earth, leaving it without life.

Something moved in the corner of his vision and Merlin turned quickly, catching sight a brown cloak and a flash of red fabric.

「Arthur?」

The wind curled around his cheek, a caress with a hint of _gold_ that said, _Emrys…_

「Who's there?」

_You're not supposed to be here._ the voice echoed, _be here, be here, be here…_

「Arthur?」

_No._

「Will?」 tried Merlin, desperately, unable to hear the voice as it reverberated within his head like the echo of a bell.

A pause.

_Will is not your destiny._

There was something he needed to do, something he needed to ask…something about Will? But Merlin couldn't remember, his own thoughts dancing just out of reach, hazy, his feet moving listlessly, listlessly, chasing the speed of the seasons. He was trapped in this moment and this moment only, isolated from the past and held suspended in the amber space between present and future.

「I need to save Will,」 Merlin said, uncertainly.

_You can't save everyone._

「Who are you?」 cried Merlin, as he caught sight of another shadow and another flash of red and brown, the sound of boots falling soft on leaves strewn earth; the only sound he could hear with his ears, disorientating.

「Arthur?」 he called out again, 「Arthur, I think I'm lost. It's not funny anymore.」

He swore he saw gold hair and the quirk of a smile, darting ahead of him around the edge of the clearing, disappearing into the path on the other side and Merlin ran after him, hitting his shoulder and elbows on the trunk of trees, the leaves and branches trying to twist around his ankles.

「I want to go home now, Arthur- you win, okay? You win, Arthur- I want-」

Wind whistled past his face like a ghost.

_Who would you rather, who would you rather, rather, rather, Emrys?_ sang the voice and he tried to block it out of his head, chasing Arthur through the circle of mushrooms now, through the unclear mist that hung about the ground and onto the path through the other side. He didn't know how long he ran, but his sides ached with it and his legs felt as if they would soon give out, stumbling amongst the leaves until Merlin was sure he couldn't go on for much longer, but Arthur's footsteps could still be heard, _run, run, Emrys, run_ and then he saw-

Merlin had seen mirrors before, of course, but not one as large as this. There was a small brass-framed mirror in Arthur's room, hanging on top of a tall cabinet. Mirrors were expensive, and one day, when Arthur was still out training with his knights, Merlin had stood on tip toe and lifted the mirror from its hook on the wall and stared into it. He had never seen his own face before – only ever reflections in rippling water.

This mirror was as tall as he was, resting on a large golden stand in the middle of the path, glittering and beautiful. The wide gilded frame was carved with curving patterns, the deeper grooves green with moss.

Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

Merlin stepped cautiously up to the mirror, filling its frame with his wings as he reached out tentatively until his palm rested against the smooth, cold surface.

「Hello, then.」

Merlin eyes snapped up to meet the ones of his reflection.

Merlin felt his heart stop. His reflection looked back at him steadily with eyes the colour of molten gold. Merlin wanted to draw back, but his hand could not be moved, and he watched as his reflection shifted, its own hand detaching itself away from Merlin's and waving, lazily.

「Who are you?」 asked Merlin to his reflection, words riding out on a breath.

The Merlin in the mirror examined his own hands for a moment, flexing pale slender fingers. He rolled his eyes.

「I'm you,」 he said, 「Or rather, your magic. I'm the real you.」

「My magic?」 repeated Merlin, eyes wide.

「You are my shadow,」 it said, cocking its head to one side, eyes glittering with something like envy.

Merlin wanted to back away. His hand still refused to budge and he flinched when his mirror self suddenly threw himself at the surface of the mirror, both fists raised, face contorted in an expression Merlin had never thought he could make. And as his fists hit the mirror, Merlin felt the fabric of the worlds shiver and shake with the force of its anger.

「You need to let me out,」 it said, eyes still burning molten gold, 「I won't be kept here for much longer. I won't. You won't survive it.」

「I don't understand-「

It threw its arms wide in a mocking gesture.

「You're dead, Emrys! You threw your destiny away, _as if you could._」

「Will-「

「Destiny was never meant to be broken. Will was meant to die so Arthur could live, but you intervened now you are dead and destiny cannot continue! Why do you think you're here? You are In Between, you cannot go back and you cannot go on because _Will was meant to die._」

「No,」 said Merlin, shaking his head and the mirror shuddered beneath his fingers at his refusal, 「No.」

「Arthur will soon die without me,」 said his mirror-self, his magic- 「And I without him.」

「He won't die,」 said Merlin, 「We're just hunting in the woods. He'll be back to taunt me soon, the pra-」

This time, when his magic spoke, it was inside his head and out, a screaming, roaring voice that tried to break free from the confines of his bones, made Merlin screw his eyes shut in pain:

「You're trapped here, can't you see you fool? We don't belong here!」

「Stop, stop, shut up-」

「LET ME OUT.」

「I won't, stop, stop, stop-」

「_I love him! I love him! How can you separate us? I'll die! I'll die!_」 – and then there were hands, fingers bruising tight around his wrists, shoulders, shaking him, shaking him, 「_Take me back. I'm going to take us back, need, love, I can't- I won't- ARTHUR!」_

Merlin's soul buckled.

Later, he would remember nothing.

*

Arthur could feel Morgana's gaze from where he stood by the cottage door, a searing heat. He didn't know whether the displaced feeling in his chest was because a _sorcerer,_ people who he had been taught to hate from birth, saved his life- or the fact that Merlin obviously knew and didn't tell him. _Magic corrupts,_ came his Father's voice, a mantra that had been part of his life, part of Camelot, for as long as he could remember. And yet Will had saved his life, _Will_ who hated the nobility and hated Arthur-

It made no sense.

But Will was dying and Merlin was likely never to forgive him.

Arthur didn't know what to think – the doubt that had long since been eating away at the once stone solid faith that magic was evil, and therefore all who practice it were evil also. Will had gone against all these principles, and now Arthur didn't know what to think. And now it made sense, the way Merlin would refuse to watch the executions, face drawn and pale for days afterward. Merlin, who had grown up alongside a magic-user, must see sorcerers in a different light. Perhaps-

There was a sudden commotion within the cottage, and then Will's voice - _Will's_- was shouting, screaming:

「_Merlin!_ Merl-」

Arthur crashed through the door, and froze at the scene which greeted him.

Will was half kneeling on the floor, very much alive and well, holding-

Arthur stared for a moment, unable to comprehend what he was seeing, hand at the hilt of his sword.

Merlin was on the floor, limbs loose and limp, eyes closed.

And there were _wings_. White, white feathers that splayed across the dirt floor, _wings_ that sprouted from Merlin's thin shoulder blades like those of a great bird, surrounding the two figures in white. It wasn't white like cloth was white, or even the shine of finest silk. It wasn't white like snow was white, but rather shade so pure, the sight of it knocked the air from Arthur's lungs.

Then he noticed the bloom of red across Merlin's shirt.

「_What did you do to him?_」

Arthur had crossed the room before he knew it and pulled Merlin from Will's grasp, a wing folding against his shoulder, the feathers brushing soft against his cheek. Merlin's pulse fluttered weakly against his throat. His shirt was intact- there was no rip where the arrow might have gone through, and after splitting it down the middle with his knife, Arthur found the entry wound of an arrow; a dark hole surrounded by blood. He stared at Will. Where the arrow wound had been on his chest, there was only a faint pink scar.

Then, quietly, Merlin's breaths faltered and stopped.

And something in Arthur pulled taut, a sharp _tug_ , a steel weight had ripping at his heartstrings, tearing a terrible cry from his throat. His own heartbeat lurched painfully within his chest as he clutched Merlin tighter in his arms, disbelieving, pressing two shaking fingers to the pale curve of Merlin's throat. Nothing. _Nothing_.

「_What?_」 said Will, face still grey but the colour rapidly returning to his features while Merlin grew paler and paler before Arthur's eyes, 「I don't-」

Arthur had his long hunting knife at Will's throat before he could finish, blood pounding in his ears, the fear a cold fist clenched around his heart. In that moment, he suddenly understood why he never knew his mother; how one man could be driven to anything, everything, for the death of a loved one. _And Merlin never even knew-_

「What _did you do_, sorcerer? You were dying! That wound was fatal and _Merlin was fine,_ TELL ME WHAT YOU'VE DONE,」 snarled Arthur, pressing the sharp blade so that it drew a trickle of blood from Will's neck. Not as much as the blood that coated his left hand at Merlin's chest, slick warm, trying to staunch the bleeding, he was still bleeding. Oh gods, _Merlin._

「You don't fucking understand what's going on!」 Will shouted, just as loudly, spitting in Arthur's face and Arthur let Merlin slide to the ground, limp and cradled in feathers, to punch Will hard across the face.

The other man staggered back into the table, hands groping for something to use as a weapon but Arthur was faster, the tip of his sword at Will's chest, just above the heart. There was an odd stillness around Arthur. He could feel it like the caress of fog, stagnant and frozen in the frenzy of grief and rage and denial. It was as if he was detached, an observer to the ringing roar of emptiness in his own ears.

「It's not my secret to tell,」 said Will, face contorted with fury, 「but this wasn't my doing.」

「I know magic when I see it,」 said Arthur, voice cold and calm, mind joining the dots, 「Did you sacrifice Merlin's life for yours? _He was your friend._」

「I said _it wasn't me!_」 shouted Will into Arthur's face, 「He must have sacrificed himself to save my life, the _fool_, I-「

Arthur pressed the blade harder against Will's chest, letting the metal sink through fabric and meet flesh. Just the slightest bit more pressure… _Merlin would never know. He would never-_

「Undo it,」 he said.

Will stared at him for a moment, then laughed, throwing his head back. Arthur saw red.

「You really don't know,」 said Will, and it wasn't a question, 「I guess Merlin just didn't trust you at all, did he?」

「Undo it!」 said Arthur again, voice rising to a near scream at Will's refusal, 「Undo it or I _will_ kill you. Your life means nothing to me!」

「You're going to kill me anyway, Pendragon. And Merlin will have died in vain, you stupid arrogant-」

「You killed him in cold blood to save your own skin!」

「If you hadn't interfered, none of this would have happened,」 retorted Will, and Arthur almost flinched backwards. 「He was too good for you anyway,」 continued Will, voice spiteful with anguish; though all Arthur heard was a taunting adversary.

「I am in no debt to you,」 continued Arthur, the tremble in his voice betraying the wildness in his soul, though the hand holding the sword was quite steady. 「Not anymore. M-Merlin, he- Undo the magic or I will _ run you through_.」

Will's face was blanched white. Arthur thought there might have been tears at the corners of his eyes, but he couldn't be sure. He couldn't be sure of anything, only that _Merlin was dead_ and it was a jarring _wrongness_ in Arthur's world.

「It's too late,」 said Will, wide eyes fixed on Merlin's crumpled body beyond Arthur's shoulder.

「Yes,」 said Arthur, voice a barely audible rasp, and he slid his blade neatly between Will's ribs.

*

On the floor, Merlin gasped in a breath.

In Albion, Destiny snapped back into orbit.

*

Merlin woke in degrees, senses returning to him slowly. To begin with, he could only feel the glorious burn of magic through his veins, golden and shining with something he had not experienced before. It moved like the seasons, warm and cold and warm again. There were arms around him, scent of _home_, a gentle rocking motion. Someone was stroking the crest of his wing, soothing. His heart felt dizzy with it.

Everything was dark. And it was a moment before Merlin realised he had his eyes closed.

He opened them.

Then memory returned. There was a face close to his, blurred like a dream.

「Will?」 asked Merlin, but he couldn't hear his own voice so he tried again, 「Will?」

Lips moved.

「He's gone. Dead. You're safe now, you're alive- gods, I thought I'd nearly-「

Merlin tried to rub the blur out of his eyes, but his hands were too heavy to lift. He blinked rapidly, and the world slowly focused. It wasn't Will who was holding him. It was Arthur, Arthur with a tear stained face and blood stained hands, holding on to Merlin like a man who had once let go without knowing it.

Then Arthur's words registered in Merlin's mind.

「Dead?」 he repeated, suddenly cold, trying to stand, trying to see where Will was because where was Will? Why hadn't it worked? _Nonononono- _ Why hadn't he been able to save his best friend? He was alive. It could only mean one thing- but why had It failed him now, why wouldn't it take his life instead, _why_-

It was only when he felt Arthur shaking him, arms tightening about his shoulders that Merlin realised he had been talking out loud, voice dry at a whisper.

「Hush. Hush, Merlin,」 said Arthur, as if to a child waking from nightmare, 「What are you saying? You're not making sense, hush now.」

Merlin could feel the pull of bandages around his chest, and looking down, he saw off white linen bound across a dark brown stain of blood. He tried pushing away from Arthur, mind still reeling, confused. He got half way to his feet before his knees gave out, buckling. Arthur caught him by the waist.

「Merlin-」

But Merlin had seen; a figure covered with a sheet, laid out on the table.

He screamed, but his mouth only formed an 『o', and no sound passed his lips. Merlin clawed at Arthur's embrace, trying to break free, reach Will, heal Will, save him _save him save him_, growing hysterical.

「Merlin! Calm down, calm-「

Then Hunith appeared at Arthur's shoulder, holding something in her hands and Merlin reached for her, blindly-

「Mother, the rabbit, the rabbit is alive, why wouldn't Will-「

「Here, give him-」

「Will-」

「He's delirious-」

Arthur's hands on his jaw, at the back of his neck.

「Drink this. Drink this Merlin, it'll be alright, here-」

The potion seeped through Merlin like a lullaby, and the last thing he saw was Arthur's face before he succumbed to unconsciousness.

*

Merlin dreamt that Will had wings too.

They were russet brown like his hair, tawny in sunlight as they raced up a hill under dotted clouds and yellow green grass, laughing, laughing, laughing.

But when they got to the top of the hill, Will snapped his wings out and jumped, flying into the air, disappearing into the blue of the sky, still laughing you're a girl merlin such a girl silly stupid merlin.

Try as he might, folding and unfolding his wings… Merlin couldn't follow.

*

When he woke again, he was lying in a bundle of blankets and, when the room swam into view, he realised he was lying on two bedrolls pushed close together, a thick winter cloak bundled beneath his head as a pillow. Turning his head, he pressed his face into the fabric to hide from the light filtering through the window. The cloak smelt of Arthur.

His mother smiled at him wearily from her vigil beside her bed, helping him sit and holding a cup of water to his mouth. Merlin drank, the taste of water a relief in his parched throat.

「How long…?」

「Almost two days. You've been sleeping,」 said Hunith, smiling.

「Where's Arthur?」 he asked.

「He's just outside. I told him to get some fresh air- he has been refusing to leave you.」 Hunith brushed her son's hair back from his forehead, dropping a kiss there, tender. 「He cares a lot for you,」 she said.

「Will?」 said Merlin, after a beat, and at the expression on his mother's face, his own crumpled and he drew his wings closer to his shoulders and legs to his chest, trying to hide his face, pressing a fist to his mouth to muffle his that rose, fresh and unhindered by sleep.

「I'm so sorry,」 said his mother, pulling him into her warm arms and Merlin let his tears run unchecked, hiccupping into her shoulder.

「Will h-hates me,」 said Merlin, delirious, voice breaking, 「I've still got his necklace because he didn't want it anymore, he said he didn't know who I was anymore, but he came back and now he's _gone_!」

It was a long moment before his sobs ebbed away, and his mother framed his face with her hands, making him look up.

「Merlin, you must listen,」 she said, tone urgent, 「Your wings…」

Merlin was confused for a moment, stretching one wing out in response. His eyes darted, unfocused and dazed.

「My…?」

「Did you tell Arthur about them?」

Merlin stared at his mother, uncomprehending. His fingers felt cold.

「No,」 he whispered, 「No, I've never-」

「Because he knows, Merlin,」 said Hunith, tears in her own eyes, 「He _knows._」

Merlin pulled back from her, trying to twist around to see the doorway of their small house, a freezing cold settling in the pit of his stomach and burning its way through his limbs like the lack of oxygen. Arthur knows. Arthur _knows_. Merlin didn't know what that meant.

「He- how-」

「Something happened with your spell when Will…」 Hunith looked distraught, 「He asked about them and I said it wasn't your fault, you were born with it, I-「

「Mother-「

「_Oh Merlin,_ what will you do?」

He shut his eyes for a moment, calling up his magic to cast the appropriate spell that would conceal the wings and his magic surged up as if a damn had been broken and Merlin gasped with it, eyes snapping back open. His blankets were twisting themselves with agitation and Merlin had to take several deep breaths before the dizzying sensation passed. He had no idea whether the spell was successful or not.

「I'll leave,」 he said, the first thing that came into his mind, numb with shock and still drowning with grief, 「I'll leave, mother, I'll have to-」

「You'll do no such thing,」 said Arthur from the doorway.

*

[A/N] So the fanfiction editor won't let me do proper formatting in terms of spacing etc, so sorry for the cramp. Part eight! Now we are up to date. From now on, the new chapters will hopefully be updated once a week, apocalypses not withstanding. :) Happy reading, and do please drop me a comment.


	10. part ix

**.ix**

*

"A half truth is a whole lie."

*

Arthur had killed men before.

He never lost count. He had killed men in battle, bandits, foreign knights who had challenged him to the death. He had killed with sword, mace, arrow, and even once with his bare hands, breaking the man's neck with a twist. He had killed sorcerers, certainly, and this sorcerer was just the same in the end.

But the look on Hunith's face when she saw him, knife bloodied and Will dead.

Will was different.

_He tried to kill Merlin_, thought Arthur, and he found he did not regret, if it meant that the magic was undone and Merlin was breathing again. But he hadn't been thinking straight, he hadn't been thinking at all: had let rage and grief cloud his vision and killed for vengeance. It was easy.

He could kill for Merlin. He _had_ killed for Merlin.

Near loss brought things into perspective, like soldiers before a war; a strategist with nothing to lose.

But Hunith's frantic explanations and the fact that Merlin _wasn't dead_had dulled the betrayal and anger that had first swept through him. Merlin had not woken for nearly two days, sleeping in the makeshift bed. Hunith had even tried a small handful of expensive smelling salts, but Merlin had remained unconscious. And Arthur was left alone with his thoughts and doubts. Did Merlin fear him?

In the end, perhaps it was as Will had said. _Not enough._ Arthur hadn't proven himself enough, all they had been through had not been enough, their friendship had not been enough and ultimately…ultimately, Merlin didn't trust him enough.

Didn't love him enough.

The earthenware jug by the door next to Arthur shattered with a _crash._

Arthur jumped, startled, and only just managed to bite back a yell of alarm. There was a hot burning cut on his cheek, a thin line that he could feel welling blood. Heart hammering, he scanned his immediate surroundings…but there was nothing. Perhaps he had knocked it over? Or a gust of wind – it could have been anything.

Warily, Arthur crouched down next to where the jug had been. There were fine shards embedded in the wooden walls, but where the jug had been, there was a pile of fine dust. Pottery didn't shatter into dust when knocked over. Arthur stood up so quickly he felt disorientated. _What in the world had just happened?_ He was just about to go back inside the house, tell Hunith, check on Merlin- when he heard their voices filtering through the thin wooden door. Arthur stepped closer to the uneven panels.

"…will you do?"

"I'll leave. I'll leave, mother-"

Arthur wrenched open the door without warning, startling Merlin into silence. Light filtered in, casting Arthur's shadow, long and dark on the floor.

"You will do no such thing," he said, voice flat.

The cold, cold anger that had been brewing within his chest at Merlin's words abated a little when Arthur caught sight of him, awake at last, the sheer relief overwhelming. And Gods, he still looked half dead: corpse pale and clutching the grey home-spun blanket to his chest. His hands were white knuckled and he stared up at Arthur, so resigned yet fearful. The expression made Arthur want to throw up.

And his _wings._

Now that there was no impending death, Arthur couldn't tear his gaze away from them – huge compared to Merlin's scrawny frame, arching up and forwards like a canopy, bent half way because of the cramped space. iFeathers!/i How had Merlin kept this a secret for so long?

"Arthur?" said Merlin, voice wavering with uncertainty.

Arthur caught Hunith's gaze over the top of Merlin's tousled head.

"I need to speak with your son in private," he said, stiffly, "If I may."

Hunith stood slowly, eyes never leaving Arthur's – and the prince felt as if she were seeing through him, piercing and judging if he would be a danger to her son. It was a long moment before she inclined her head very slightly, squeezed Merlin's shoulder in reassurance, and left the room. Merlin looked as if he were about to faint.

The silence stretched on for a few long minutes, Merlin staring at Arthur, Arthur staring at Merlin's wings. When Arthur took a step forwards, Merlin flinched so hard his back hit the wall behind him.

"I can explain," said Merlin, voice rushing out in a jumble.

Arthur remained silent, and when it was a moment before Merlin realised he had to go on.

"I was born with them," he said, the wings drawn in close so that they almost hid him from view, "I've always had them, forever, but they've only really started growing when I went to Camelot, see, and now they're- they're like this. They're just a part of me, and they're usually hidden I can't, I mean, I can't even_ fly_ so it's not as if they're doing any harm-"

Arthur held up a hand, and Merlin fell silent immediately, as if his voice had been stolen.

"I don't need an explanation for that," said Arthur, and then stopped. It was a long time before he spoke again.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Merlin hesitated.

"Sire-"

And it was the honorific that made the sense of hurt and betrayal rushing back like a storm.

"_You promised me you would never deceive me again_,"said Arthur, more harshly than he intended and Merlin tensed. Arthur gestured at the wings with one hand, "How could you not have told me, Merlin? This-!"

Merlin stared back at him.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do! Arthur-"

"Then why didn't you tell me?!" demanded Arthur, voice rising, "You failed to mention that y-you have- you have- _are you even human_?"

Arthur regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, for Merlin looked like someone had knocked all the air from his body, jerking upright in an aborted movement, and staring at Arthur, wide eyed. Clenching and unclenching his fingers to reign in his emotions, Arthur sighed and moved the rest of the way towards Merlin, ignoring the latter's attempt to retreat. He sat cross legged in front of him on then end of the bedroll, and when Merlin relaxed enough to look up, Arthur knew the gesture of apology had been taken as such.

"I don't know," he said, and gave Arthur a small, sad smile, "Probably not."

Arthur didn't smile back.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he asked again, watching Merlin's expression carefully.

"Yes. No. Ye- Arthur... I couldn't tell you," said Merlin, voice anguished, "but you have to understand, the King would have had me executed, he wouldn't have asked questions, the wings themselves would have been magical enough to get me killed, so I couldn't tell you Arthur, I couldn't tell you, I _couldn't_!"

Merlin's answer burned cold in his chest, a physical pain.

"You _could have trusted me_," said Arthur quietly, "you could have trusted me to protect you."

The surprise on Merlin's face hurt more than Arthur could have ever imagined.

"Arthur, I-"

"How have you kept them hidden for so long?" asked Arthur, cutting him off. Then, horrified, "Was it magic?"

Merlin's face lost what little colour it had, and his eyes darted to Arthurs then back to the floor.

"W-Will helped me," said Merlin, finally, voice breaking on his friend's name, "It was a charm to make them invisible to all who didn't know the truth."

But the mention of Will made his heart burn once more. Merlin still believed Will to be his faithful friend, but Arthur _knew_. Knew that at the last moment, Will had chosen his own life over Merlin's and betrayed Merlin's friendship. _Like Merlin has betrayed yours_, said a voice in his head, but Arthur pushed the thought away viciously. He wouldn't hurt Merlin further. He was already grieving for the loss of a childhood friend – if he knew what Will had tried to do

Arthur decided there and then that he would carry this secret – and what he had done- to his grave.

"I'm sorry, Arthur," said Merlin, and Arthur saw that silent tears were pouring down Merlin's cheeks. "I didn't want you to hate me- you would hate me, you would think me a freak if you found out, I thought-" Merlin pushed a fist to his mouth to silence himself, chest shuddering. The sight made Arthur's stomach clench.

_I could never hate you._ But Arthur could not bring himself to say the words; instead, he reached forwards and tugging Merlin into his arms.

Merlin was stiff within his embrace for a moment before the tense line in his shoulders gave out and he collapsed, burying his face into the crook of Arthur's shoulder, enveloping them both with feathers. Arthur could feel the warmth of them around him, the slight scent of sky and leaves and _Merlin._

He didn't know what to think.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he chanted, over and over, voice strained with exhaustion, trailing off, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

They stayed like that for- Arthur didn't know how long- an eternity, a cycle of the seasons, arms wrapped tight around each other, neither letting go.

Merlin's heartbeat slowed eventually, and Arthur could feel it against his own through his tunic, beating slightly out of sync. He listened to Merlin's breathing even out, watched the sun filter in through the cracks in the window, drawing the lines that Arthur had now crossed.. They were golden on the dirt floor, Merlin asleep in his arms.

*

"That's pretty cool," said Will, as he bent down to examine the little sapling between Merlin's cupped hands, small spidery roots in soft brown earth.

Merlin beamed, feeling a little light headed from the magic and the new life in his hands, green and young and shining where a plain acorn had been moments before.

"Feel tired, though," he said, walking backwards until he found a log to sit on. Will poked at one of the leaves, and Merlin drew the sapling away with a glare.

"Be careful," he said, annoyed, "You'll crush it."

"No, I won't," said Will, who was barely ten years old but had the destructive ability of a fully grown mountain bear. Not that Merlin had ever seen any bears, but he had heard stories, and the habits of a bear sounded pretty like Will, what with the sleeping, eating, growling, and trampling things.

"I'm going to plant it," said Merlin, decisively, standing up again and walking a little way towards the riverbank, "And it'll grow into a huge oak! It'll be _ours_."

"Oaks take hundreds of years to grow, Merlin," Will complained, "Can't you just use your magic and make it grow faster?"

"I don't think I could do that yet," said Merlin, dubiously, "feel like...it doesn't _want_ to be a tree yet."

"Well, I'll be dead before I see it then," said Will, kicking at a stone amongst the pebbles in the sand.

"Don't be silly," said Merlin.

*

When Arthur woke, Merlin was gone.

He panicked for a moment when his hand met the cold indent where a warm body should have been, and he sat up in a rush, looking wildly about the room. It was empty. He rushed out of the house.

As soon as Hunith saw him, hair all sticking up on one side and pressed down on the other, she pointed in the direction of the woods and said,

"Merlin's down by the river."

Arthur mumbled a quick thanks before walking quickly towards the edge of the trees- then gave up and started to half run, taking the well worn dirt path that wound its way slowly through the woods. He followed a little brook that gurgled its way by his feet, and he stopped briefly to splash some fresh water on his face. It was freezing cold with the coming winter. The prince walked on.

Moments later he found Merlin on the bank of the river, slumped against a towering oak tree. He was curled around the base of it, limbs splayed oddly, and Arthur took the last few steps at a run.

"Merlin? _Merlin_."

Merlin's face was slack with unconsciousness and Arthur shook him by the shoulders. A shiver ran up Arthur's arm where his thumb brushed the bared skin above Merlin's collarbone, but Arthur didn't notice. He slapped Merlin lightly on the cheek.

"Hey. Come on. Merlin!"

"Wha- Arthur?" Merlin blinked awake, looking lost, "Where- oh."

"Did you fall asleep again?" asked Arthur, his tone soft. "Idiot," he added quickly.

Merlin wiped his hands on his britches, and Arthur noticed that both palms were dark with dirt and smudged with bark, a few scrapes around the pads of the fingers. Despite the sleep, Merlin still looked exhausted and peaky, eyes red rimmed from crying.

"The oak is grown now, see?" slurred Merlin, slumping back again. Arthur had to loop one arm around his waist to stop him falling back into the dirt,

"You're making no sense, Merlin," said Arthur, trying to pull them both upright, "I think we should take you back to the house…"

"Du'wan to," said Merlin coherently, nudging Arthur's leg with the ridge of one wing, the long flying feathers dragging in the sand, "Will."

Arthur was afraid for a moment that Merlin had been driven mad with grief, and he took him firmly by the shoulders, forcing the latter to look up.

"Merlin."

Something passed between them like a shadow. Merlin seemed to come to his senses, eyes focusing on Arthur's after a long moment, and he pulled back away.

"Sorry," he said.

"What are you doing out here?" asked Arthur.

Merlin rubbed his eye with his fist, sniffling, and the action was at once endearing and a little sad.

"Fresh air," replied Merlin, lamely.

Arthur settled down more comfortably beside his manservant on the sandy bank.

"Well, next time you decide to wander off, do wake me up and tell me."

"Why?" asked Merlin, and it was such a _Merlin_ thing to do, to question everything that came out of Arthur's mouth, Arthur smiled slightly despite himself.

"Who else is going to notice if you trip and drown in a river?"

Merlin didn't reply, staring out over the water's surface at the opposite bank. The tree-line there drew close, until the trees blended together into dark green shadows and the smell of moss and ferns. Sunlight made the river look silver and Merlin's wings near transparent. If Arthur looked closely, he could see white shaft of each feather, and he fought the urge to reach out and itouch./i

He noticed that Merlin was watching him anxiously, eyes darting to his face whenever he thought Arthur wasn't looking, shoulders still tense.

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"You're not…angry with me?" asked Merlin finally, tentative.

"Yes, I am," said Arthur, voice lacking any heat.

"Oh."

Silence stretched on.

"I wish you hadn't lied to me," said Arthur, and it felt like the most honest admission he had given in…a long, long time. It was ironic, Arthur thought, that only in Merlin's presence did he ever feel as if he could drop the façade that was Crown Prince and be Arthur Pendragon. But Merlin had been lying to Arthur for over a year.

Merlin's eyes were very blue.

"I didn't know how you'd react," said Merlin, in a way that Arthur knew he was thinking each word carefully before saying them out loud, testing Arthur's temper.

"What did you think I would do?" said Arthur, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice.

Merlin looked at him, expression wary.

"You're taking this very well," he said, defensively, "I thought there would be a lot more screaming and shouting involved, when you found out. Possibly executions too."

Arthur let out a bark of laughter.

"Oh trust me; I had plenty of time to do that while you were unconscious for two whole days. I thought to myself, why would my manservant, whose life I have saved on countless occasions-"

"I've saved iyours/i too-"

"- keep something this important from me? That he failed to mention that he had bloody _wings _ for heaven's sake! Is this what Edwin wanted you for?"

"It was part of the reason, I think," said Merlin, "That and…Arthur. It's just- I. I'm-"

The memory of Merlin, limp and bloodied on an altar, superimposed itself with the vivid image of Merlin, lying dead on the ground and Arthur could feel the now familiar pain in his chest that he associated with heartache. _Merlin, missing, Merlin collapsing in Lancelot's arms-_

Arthur's heart seized in realisation.

"Did Lancelot know?"

Merlin's mouth opened and closed, wordless. Finally, he said, stumbling over the words:

"…W-What?"

His hesitation told Arthur all he needed to know.

"He knew," said Arthur, quietly, voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

Something cold and vicious twisted in his gut.

And it must have shown on his face because Merlin looked horrified and made a movement towards him. It was Arthur's turn to jerk back and away, rising fluidly to his feet, suddenly robbed of breath. He stared at a point just above Merlin's left shoulder. It was easier to be this way. In anger he could hope to control himself, stop himself from lashing out, curling his fingers around that _filthy lying throat_, bury the sheer _hurt_, that had risen anew at this revelation.

_Lancelot_ had known –

"You told- you _trust him_?" asked Arthur, barely able to speak. The _and not me?_ was obvious.

"No- no, Arthur," Merlin babbled, voice strained, eyes imploring, panicked. Arthur looked away. "I didn't _tell him_, he just sort of guessed, I swear-"

"Or you would have lied to him as well, I assume," spat Arthur, letting the anger drown him like a forgiving wave, "Like you've lied to me."

"No-"

"Yes! That's _exactly _ what you've done. You've done nothing but lie to me ever since we met!"

"That's not true-"

Arthur laughed again. The sound hurt his throat.

"I think it's _only_ truth."

"The griffin attacked me, Lance found out when he rescued me-"

"You're so _blind_ with deceit that you can't see what's right in front of you."

"-It's not like I wanted to tell him, Arthur, listen_-_"

"_It's Sire_," Arthur bit out harshly, and Merlin fell silent instantly.

Then, because he couldn't stand it:

"Get out of my sight."

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, both hands curled into fists in his hair, and Arthur could tell he was trying not to cry by the thin line of his lips, pressed tight together. He did not move, and at that moment, all Arthur felt was the bite of bitter jealousy and a heart misplaced.

"I said _get out of my sight_!," shouted Arthur, violent, "Are you deaf as well as dumb?"

The words ringed in the silence of the woods.

He saw Merlin move out of the corner of his vision, and for a heartstopping moment … but then Merlin's shadow, wide with the elongated slant that the wings' created on the dark sand, drew back from the water, from Arthur, slowly, slowly, until it disappeared from view.

And only when he could't hear Merlin's footsteps anymore, did Arthur let himself go, swinging a punch, then another into the trunk of the nearest tree until his knuckles were bloody and numb and he couldn't feel anything else.

Around him, the forest breathed, the river flowed and the oak whispered on the wind.

*

--

**Author's Note**: This part was beta'd by the lovely _musicsage92._ Who helped me tweek grammar and we had an wonderful chat about Arthur's utter jerk-face in this chapter. Feel free to crit! :)


	11. part x

**.x**

*

_Merlin's first kiss had been from Leia, when he was fourteen. It didn't really feel like anything, a clumsy giggling dab of lips against lips, and the crackling fire from the village Beltane feast dancing in the background. Her hair looked like flames, and she gave him a bunch of flowers, a glance under her eyelashes and ran, laughing away. Merlin stared after her, stunned._ _Will whacked him upside the head and stole his flowers. He threw them in the bonfire and Leia slapped him across the face. _

_When Merlin left for __Camelot__, Leia gave him a press of heather for protection; peony for luck__._

_When Merlin came back, she was married to the carpenter's son._

*

Arthur hadn't spoken a single word to Merlin since yesterday.

He had disappeared before nightfall and Merlin had sat outside on the steps of his mother's house for hours, waiting for Arthur to return. He watched the treeline for silhouettes, while his supper grew cold on the table. The silhouette never emerged, and Merlin didn't remember falling asleep but he must have, for when he wok, he was still inside the house, wrapped in his blanket and sprawled across two bedrolls – Arthur, still missing.

They burned Will's body that morning, before dawn.

It was still dark; the sun, absent. The pyre blew smoke into Merlin's eyes. It stung a little; dry and hot. But he didn't weep. He hadn't any tears left for crying. He hadn't any words left to say.

And now Will was gone.

Gwen and Morgana stood to the side, whilst his mother held his shoulders and the rest of the village stood a little way behind them. _Another death, _they would whisper, _that Merlin boy and his magic_. He stared resolutely into the fire, the flames that were rising with the smoke. And Will was gone because Merlin had failed him. Merlin had never hated his wings more, wanted to rip them from his back along with the magic that still curled golden inside his chest. He wanted to tear it out with a knife, _useless, useless, useless, _tear it out like the absence of Arthur by his side.

He clutched Will's amulet in his pocket and let the wood dig an indent in his palm like a promise.

"I'm sorry," someone said, and Merlin looked up to see Morgana suddenly beside him, a dark blue cloak wrapped about her shoulders and her eyes red. From smoke or tears, Merlin didn't know. "I know he was your friend."

Merlin nodded, but could not bring words to his throat. Arthur no doubt hated him now, though that possibility didn't inspire the panic that it should have. Merlin felt as if everything he was had been taken and twisted and wrung out until he could feel nothing more, even as his carefully constructed illusions fell apart one by one.

Morgana offered him a small smile, brushed a comforting hand against his arm for a moment, then turned away.

"I couldn't save him," said Merlin after they had both long gone, and it was just Merlin and his mother by the pyre. "Why couldn't I save him?"

Hunith did not answer, but enveloped her son in a tight embrace which Merlin could not return, his hands as cold as the rest of him.

"Merlin," said Hunith, "You would have _died._"

Merlin thought that his feathers would always now carry the scent of smoke. Something he couldn't shake, even when the pyre had burned down and all that was left was a pile of ash on the grass.

"I know," Merlin replied, wistfully, and Hunith pulled back, her eyes wet with tears.

"No. No, don't ever- you must promise me," said his mother, pulling him even closer.

"It should have worked," said Merlin, blankly, "Will should be here."

Hunith was crying now, tears damp on her face.

Merlin had always thought that Arthur finding out about his wings would be something of a bang. Perhaps during some conflict where Merlin had no choice but to reveal himself. Perhaps when saving Arthur's life during an attack. But he couldn't save anyone if he could not save Will.

"I don't want my magic anymore," said Merlin.

In front of them, the pyre burned, the air shivered, and the ash smoke curled skyward, leaving the earth behind.

*

Beyond the treeline, Arthur could see smoke rising grey into the greyer sky. It was nearly dawn.

Retrieving his sword from where it stood embedded in the soft earth, he finally made his way slowly back to the village. Although he wouldn't admit it, he was afraid of seeing Merlin. Not afraid of what he might do – his anger had already burned down to hurt, his betrayal to the embers of confusion – but rather what he _wouldn't _do. Merlin had _wings, _for heaven's sake – was this magic? Arthur didn't know.

The fact that Merlin so easily gave his trust to someone he'd known for less than a day with his secret-

Arthur pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He paused in his steps, something catching his eye. Two sets of prints on the forest floor, undisturbed and fresh. Arthur bent down to examine them, then tracked them back the way he had come, his footsteps breaking into a run as he heard the unmistakable sound of hooves on forest floor. It was easier for him to dash through the trees than a horse with its bulk, and a moment later, Arthur sighted a rider making haste away from Ealdor. His face was masked with black cloth, the shine of a metal sword at his hip. One of Kanen's surviving raiders.

Unfortunately, the man saw Arthur at the same moment, and with a cry to his steed, urged it westward over a large fallen log.

"Halt!"

Arthur gave chase, unsheathing his sword as he ran, only skidding suddenly to a halt when something in the sky caught his eye.

Smoke. Not the trailing grey of the pyre that he knew was burning – but a billowing cloud to its left, bringing the scent of burning timber and ruin.

Arthur _ran_.

*

"_I believed you would die, and that was a risk I could not take. You are too precious to me. You mean more to me than anything I know, more than this entire kingdom and certainly more than my own life."_

_At the time, Arthur didn't understand. He wanted to believe it – perhaps his father _really_ thought he was going to die. In death, people were more honest, Arthur knew that – he had already seen too much of it. The words warmed his heart and the part of him that craved for __his __father's affection. As he grew older, __age dampened these hopes, as age is wont to do__. But even so, Arthur didn't really understand__._

_Now, he did._

*

When he arrived at the outskirts of the village (he hadn't realised how far into the forest he had really wandered, or how much ground he covered whilst running after the bandit), he could hear as well as see the fire and smoke that billowed from a small house, the flames hot and insistent, inching its way along the fences and to the neighboring cottages. Still running, he rounded the corner just in time to see Merlin – wings and all- run into the house, screaming,

"Leia!"

_The house that was on fire._

Panic, new, overwhelming panic gripped Arthur by the throat. In that moment, all thought of hurt and betrayal vanished.

"Merlin!" he shouted, heedless as he pushed past a hysterical woman screaming for her daughter, ready to go after Merlin and drag him to safety. "_Merlin!_" Out of nowhere, Morgana caught him by the arm. Her fingers dug into his flesh.

"Arthur, you can't-"

"Merlin's in there!" he shouted over the heat of the flames, wrenching his arm free – but even as he did so, Merlin was stumbling out of the half-collapsed doorway, wings and face blackened with ash and soot. He had a girl with him, her straw blond hair equally covered in ash, and her shrieks of pain tore through the air, hands clawing at her face as Merlin collapsed with her on the grass. They were half hidden by people, some pouring pail-fulls of well-water in an attempt to put out the fire. Arthur broke free of Morgana and barreled his way to the front. He was just close enough to hear the tail end of a sentence,

"…be alright."

Before he dropped down next to the two of them, and the girl's screams suddenly tapered off. She sat up, slowly, staring at Merlin in awe with large hazel eyes. There were still small burns on her legs and palms, but her face was fine, from what Arthur could see. Covered in black, but fine. Odd.

"_Oh," _she breathed, "Thank you, Merlin, I-_oh _thank you."

"Are you alright?" asked Arthur, and the girl –Leia- had time to stammer out a "yes, sire" before her Mother pulled her away, sobbing loudly as they embraced. Arthur turned back to his manservant, who hadn't moved at all.

"Merlin? Merlin, are you hurt?"

Arthur gripped him by the shoulders, and Merlin jerked away, startled. His breathing was harsh, face white with pain. Arthur shook him, frantic.

"Merlin, what's wrong with you?"

"A-Arth-Sire?" his voice was dry with smoke, trembling with uncertainty.

"I'm here. Where does it hurt? God, _never _do that again you _bloody_ idiot! You hear me? …Merlin?"

Merlin's hands, fumbling, reached up and clasped over Arthur's own on his shoulder, and Arthur could feel his fingers shaking as it felt over his knuckles and the ring on his fourth finger.

"It doesn't hurt, I'm fine," said Merlin, then broke into a coughing fit. His eyes were unfocused, irises an odd shade of pink and white filming over his usual clear blue. His fingers were still clasped around Arthur's and Arthur suddenly chilled to the bone, a sinking feeling in his gut. Gripped by a sudden, terrible thought, he let go of Merlin's shoulders and held up four fingers in front of Merlin's face.

"Merlin, _Merlin_ look at me. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Merlin's eyes darted left and right, wildly.

"I can't- it's too dark." said Merlin, "It's too dark. Arthur, where are you?"

The fear in Merlin's voice nearly broke Arthur, panic written large across his expressive face. He took Merlin firmly by the arms again, slowly pulling them both upright so he could guide them away from the chaos.

"I'm right here," said Arthur, trying to keep his voice as steady as he could, "I'm right here."

"It's so dark," said Merlin again, almost a whisper, a hand coming up. It hit Arthur hard in the chest because Merlin had misjudged the distance, and it hurt, but fingers fisted in his shirt and Merlin seemed to be reassured a little.

"Come on, let's get you inside somewhere, have a look-"

"I think I've gone blind," said Merlin, trembling under Arthur's hands like a foal in winter. "Everything's so dark."

"It's just concussion," said Arthur. "Just temporary. You'll be fine, I promise."

Merlin tripped over an uneven section of the dirt road, hands flying out to brace himself against nothing, almost falling over.

"Sorry! Sorry, I can't-"

Arthur looped one arm around Merlin's back, beneath the nook of his wings, and under his knees, hoisting him off the ground and carrying him the rest of the way towards the familiar doorway of Hunith's cottage. For once, Merlin didn't protest, eyes open as wide as they would go, as if it would return his sight to him. Merlin felt so light in his arms that, for a moment, Arthur wondered if his bones were hollow.

They made it back to Hunith's house.

Arthur deposited Merlin on a stool, and Merlin gripped the edge of it with white fingers, eyes darting blindly everywhere. Hunith placed a jug of fresh water on the table, dipped a cloth into it and proceeded to wipe the ash and grime from Merlin's face. He jumped when the cold water touched his cheek.

"I'm going to have a look at your eyes, alright?" asked Arthur, and Merlin turned his head towards him, eyes fixed on a point slightly to Arthur's left.

"Okay."

Carefully, with thumb and forefinger, Arthur parted Merlin's eyelid, revealing that strange film of milk white and flecks of blood in both eyes. Arthur felt a sinking sensation in his stomach, dread, as he pulled back.

"Arthur?"

Not wanting to see Merlin's blank, unfocused gaze, Arthur turned to speak to Hunith instead.

"I've…seen this before. It seems that the eyes have been injured by the fire, though I'm not sure how because there are no burns on his face, he-"

"Is sitting right here," said Merlin, annoyed, "Just because I can't see you right now doesn't mean I'm not here."

"I don't know how long the blindness would last," said Arthur, bluntly, "The red would indicate that your eyes have been damaged by fire, but there are _no burns _on your skin. It doesn't make sense."

Merlin fidgeted where he sat, but remained silent.

"Is there any change at all?" asked Arthur.

Merlin blinked hard, letting go of the table to rub one eye. He winced.

"It's still dark. Just…black."

"Does it hurt?"

"No," said Merlin, and Arthur could tell he was lying. He was a terrible liar. Well, perhaps not always.

"You need to rest," said Hunith, speaking up for the first time, eyes red-rimmed and face pale. She made her way around the table and helped Merlin stand, guiding him around the chairs and towards where their bedding was still laid out on the dirt floor. Arthur hovered, feeling useless. Hunith helped Merlin out of his boots and ash-stained coat, tucking him under the blanket. Merlin's eyes were still wide open, staring blankly. He twisted, trying to sit up again, reaching out with one flailing hand.

"Arthur-"

Arthur caught Merlin's hand, which gripped his own with fumbling fingers.

"I'm right here."

"Keep talking. Can you keep talking?"

"Demanding, aren't you?" said Arthur, trying to inject some levity into the situation. The smile left him hurting. He pushed Merlin down so he was lying under the covers, the day warming a little as the sun rose over the horizon. It was nearly winter; everyone could feel it coming, cold and insistent. Merlin didn't let go of his hand, and Arthur didn't want to admit how much comfort it gave him.

"Don't think I've forgotten about your wings," said Arthur, "As soon as you're better, we're going to have a long talk about how you're a _dirty, disobedient liar._"

"Mm," said Merlin, eyes closed.

"Do you know what happens to filthy liars?" continued Arthur; "They get thrown in the stocks for the rest of their lives, that's what happens. So don't think I'm going to be letting you off. As soon as we're back in Camelot, you'll be mucking out _all _the stables, and then you can polish my boots – properly, not like how you usually do it."

Merlin snorted, "Your boots are fine."

"Go to sleep," retorted Arthur.

"Can't," said Merlin, yawning.

"God knows, you're such an _idiot,_ why did you run after her?" Arthur burst out, "You could have died! Is it too much to ask that you don't go throwing yourself in mortal danger every after day? I feel like you've taken a decade off my life already."

Sunlight was streaming through the cracks in the windows, the sounds of shouting the fire very far away.

"You're such an _idiot,_" said Arthur again, voice breaking on the last word, "I can't even leave you alone for a minute."

Merlin didn't reply.

For a long, long time, Arthur watched him sleep, and thought about Will and Leia. He thought about secrets and fires.

And he thought about wings.

*

"I know," said Hunith.

Arthur could feel ice shiver up his spine at her words, her expression.

"But Merlin is my _son,_ so I cannot be sorry for what you did."

*

Merlin didn't fall asleep.

Even though he was exhausted to the bone from grief and magic, his eyes _hurt _something awful, and he could not ignore the stifling blackness. Nonetheless, he closed his eyes and tried his best. _Reckless,_ Gaius would say, and Merlin supposed he was. But he didn't care; Leia had been screaming, _screaming_, and hadn't known what was happening, only that she was in terrible pain and he could _save her__._His useless magic and even more useless wings, but _her- _her he could save_. _

When his vision had blackened out in a burst of pain, Merlin had known something was terribly wrong.

He lay in his bedding, pretending to sleep and listening to the occasional scuffle of boots on dirt or fabric shifting. He could hear other sounds too; people calling to each other, words muffled by distance. The sound of birds, the scratching of something in the walls, the clop-clop of hooves. The sound of Arthur breathing.

Cautiously, Merlin opened his eyes, hopeful.

The world was just as dark as before.

He let out an involuntary whimper, and immediately the hand in his pulled away.

"You awake?"

It was odd, thought Merlin, the sensation of looking, moving his eyeballs, but seeing nothing. Just endless, overwhelming pitch. He could tell that Arthur was close; he could feel the presence of him by warmth and smell, but he had no idea _where_.

"Yes," he said, reaching out tentatively with both arms, tapping the air in front of him until his fingers hit something.

Arthur.

"Is it any better?" asked Arthur, helping him sit up. Merlin swatted a hand at him, annoyed at the coddling.

"No," he said, reluctantly, "It's all black."

A sigh to his right.

"We need to get you to Gaius," said Arthur after a long moment's pause.

_Gaius couldn't help,_ thought Merlin, but didn't say anything. This was an injury formed of magic. Leia must have been blinded by fire and Merlin's magic had simply targeted the most serious injury, transferring it to Merlin. And he had no idea the extent of Leia's burns, nor how long it would take for his eyes to heal…if at all. The thought of being trapped by never ending darkness made him feel faint, his heart beating a tattoo against his ribs.

"How long was I asleep?" he asked instead.

Rustle of cloth.

"Not very long. Two candle-marks at best, it's not yet midday. Here."

He felt Arthur's hand grip his own wrist, pushing a small cup into his hands and helping Merlin guide the cup to his lips. Even so, Merlin managed to spill half the cup down his front, the water cold and sweet on his tongue.

"More, please," he said, and Arthur took the cup away for a moment and Merlin could hear the gurgle splash of water being poured from a jug. This time, he didn't spill as much, drinking greedily and nearly choking when he swallowed too fast. Arthur thumped him on the back and confiscated his cup.

There was more rustling, the sound of Arthur standing and Merlin tilted his head, trying to follow. Blackness.

"We must leave as soon as possible," said Arthur, "You need Gaius. He will be able to help."

"Leave?" said Merlin, uncomprehending, "But I can't see."

"We can work something out, if you- _hey_, stop you can't just!-"

There was a sudden confusing flurry of noise and movement and someone was right in front of Merlin, he could feel their breath on his face and hard fingers on his shoulders and he jumped, startled, trying to pull away, this wasn't Arthur-

"Oh _Merlin_!" someone exclaimed from further away.

"Morgana, stop." Arthur. "You can't just grab him like that-"

_Morgana._ Merlin stopped struggling, spreading his wing as far back as they would go so she wouldn't accidently brush her hands against feathers.

"Arthur told us what happened," said Morgana. Merlin frowned. Perhaps he did fall asleep after all. "You still…?"

"Can't see," said Merlin, nodding. There was _another _movement, this time to his left (someone else approaching?) and he turned his head reflexively to look, but the black was all he could see.

"Does it hurt?" asked someone, new. Gwen. "I mean, it must hurt, that was a stupid question but is it any better? Though-"

"I'm fine," he lied.

"You mustn't be so reckless!" Morgana admonished, hugging him, "Look what's happened. _Oh Merlin_."

"He can't breathe," said Arthur, sounding irritated, "have you packed everything?"

"Yes, sire," said Gwen, and she moved. Where, Merlin couldn't tell. All the voices and movement was giving him a headache.

"Merlin?" It was Hunith, and Morgana's touch disappeared to be replaced with his mother's warm embrace, sudden and smelling of flour and grass.

"Mother," said Merlin, "Can't I just stay here for a while?" The thought of having to _travel _when he was like this filled him with dread. It was bad enough sitting still and trying to decipher everything through the darkness but even the concept of walking by himself…

There was silence.

"Arthur is right- I'm no physician. You need to see Gaius."

"Perhaps we should wait another day," said Morgana.

"We can't afford to tarry!" said Arthur, voice rising, "Father will be furious as it is and-"

"So you're more worried about your favour with your father than Merlin's well being?"

"You-!"

Merlin flinched at the anger in Arthur's voice.

"He can't travel like this!" Merlin couldn't tell who it was that had spoken, the darkness pressing down on all his sense, not just his eyes. It was almost suffocating.

"He can ride with me," said Arthur decisively, "We'll use his horse to carry the packs. If we depart now, we might make it to Camelot tomorrow."

"He's not well enough-"

"Perhaps it's only temporary?"

"He needs rest-"

"What Merlin _needs_ is a physician!"

"Well, it won't do if he falls and breaks his neck, would it?"

Merlin frowned.

"Are you saying-" started Arthur, sounding indignant. This could go on forever.

"I can ride," said Merlin, and everyone fell into sudden silence.

The silence stretched on so long that Merlin was beginning to wish for them to start arguing again, anything to fill the dark, roaring empty space in side his own head, where he was trapped without colours or light.

Finally, Arthur spoke.

"That's settled then. We leave in one candlemark."

*

The question was this:

_Why couldn't he save Will?_

*

Arthur couldn't take his eyes off Merlin's wings.

His new ability to think 'Merlin' and 'wings' in the same sentence was a feat in itself. He had left him alone with Hunith to see to the horses, and now stood outside the cottage door, unsure whether he could interrupt them.

He knocked. Paused. Then pushed open the door.

Merlin was standing near a recently abandoned stool, wings slightly unfolded for balance as he waved away Hunith and made his way around the table, one hand smooth wooden edge. He was looking to the empty space to Arthur's right, the blank, unfocused quality of his usually sharp eyes made Arthur feel sick.

"You ready?" he asked, holding out a hand to grasp Merlin's arm before the latter could walk into him.

"Yeah," said Merlin, trying to retrieve his arm back. "I can walk by myself," he said indignantly and then promptly fell out the doorway because he couldn't see where the steps began. Arthur just managed to catch him round the waist.

"No," said Arthur grimly, "You can't. Come."

Slowly, they walked towards where the horses were waiting, surrounded by some of the villagers who had come to fare them well. Arthur noticed that Merlin's shoulders grew tense at the barrage of voices, and his eyes flicked blindly, darting, everywhere, as people walked about and hens clucked in their pen. He walked in small, shuffling steps, wary and painfully uncertain. Almost unconsciously, he moved closer to Arthur's side, one hand coming up to grip the sleeve of his shirt as Morgana walked towards them, footsteps crunching loudly in the dirt.

"It's Morgana," said Arthur, reassuringly, "I'm going to mount first. Then she'll help you up behind me."

"But my wings-" protested Merlin, worried, "She'll-"

"She'll what?" asked Morgana.

"She'll help you up," said Arthur, smoothly. Maneuvering Merlin so that his wings were facing away from Morgana, and Arthur helped her hoist him into the saddle before mounting in front. The mare fidgeted slightly, and Merlin's arms immediately wrapped themselves around Arthur's waist. Tight.

"Merlin," said Arthur, with a quirk of an eyebrow.

"Sorry. Sorry, sorry," muttered Merlin, and Arthur could hear the barely suppressed fear in his voice. Merlin had never been a particularly competent rider – he bounced around the saddle like a sack of potatoes. As a knight, Arthur had been trained to fight, mount and ride blindfolded, but for Merlin…

"It's alright," he said, "Hold on if you have to."

Merlin loosened his arms, and Arthur felt a strange sense of disappointment which he ignored. It was just stress.

Hunith stood to the side, eyes wet with tears.

"Take care," she said, and Merlin shifted. Arthur could tell he was trying to seek her out amongst the confusing babble of sound.

"I will, Mother."

Arthur nodded to Hunith, made sure Merlin was firmly seated and spurred his horse out of Ealdor.

*

The more Arthur thought about Leia, the more uneasy he felt. Because there was the fact that there were barely any burns on Merlin, and none on his face; only a few scratches and grazes. How had the flames injured his eyes, and nothing else? It made no sense.

In his mind's eye, he saw Will, face contorted with emotion, Merlin dead on the ground. _It's not my secret to tell. _Will, _you really don't know. _Will, _you're going to kill me anyway, Pendragon._

_Secrets_, thought Arthur.

*

Merlin must have fallen asleep at some point, lulled by the steady rocking movement of the horse's gait and the sound of rustling leaves because next moment, he was tumbling out of the saddle.

A hand caught him by the upper arm and he was pulled back upright, disoriented in the still unfamiliar dark.

"Right," said Arthur, "Looks like we're stopping for the night."

Without light, Merlin had lost all sense of time, floating in a world of sound and sensation that was narrowed down to the gait of the horse, Arthur's scent near his nose, the texture of his shirt beneath his fingers and the curl of his magic deep within his belly. Despite the pain still lingering in his eyes, his magic hummed happily, the presence of Arthur making him warm.

Merlin tried to slip out of the saddle as he felt and heard Arthur dismount. The mare, jostled by Merlin's unruly limbs, whinnied and moved, almost dislodging him again.

"No, we're almost out of daylight anyway," said Arthur, guiding Merlin's hands to the reins, "Better find somewhere to make camp. Hold the saddle and stay still."

And then the horse was moving again, presumably with Arthur leading in front; Merlin couldn't tell. Behind them, he could hear the sounds of the other two horses and Gwen's soft voice as she and Morgana talked. He felt the cool of shadows as they wound their way into the forest, the canopy above them deepening so that soon, Merlin was suppressing shivers and folding his wings more tightly to his back.

Soon, they stopped and Arthur manhandled him out of the saddle. Merlin wobbled a little, legs unsteady as they always were after a long ride, and he kept one hand to the smooth warm leather, trying not to move at all. Everything was so unfamiliar, and he felt as if he would walk into something, or fall, as soon as he took a step.

"Someone needs to stay here with him while I gather some supplies," said Arthur. Merlin's heart lurched, but he tried to be brave, biting down on his lower lip.

"I'll stay with him," offered Gwen, and there was the sound of footsteps on wet grass, twig snapping, once, twice, and then a hand on his elbow, the smell of faint lavender water.

Merlin let her lead him, his steps painfully small, until she turned him around and urged him to sit, pressing gently on his shoulders. The rough texture of bark behind his back, cold moss through his shirt. Tree. Merlin pulled his knees to his chest.

"Are you alright?" asked Gwen from somewhere above him, and Merlin nodded.

Morgana and Arthur's voices, a little way away, muffled by the trees;

"I _can _hunt, you realise. Women aren't entirely useless."

"…For god's sake, Morgana, we need…."

Merlin leaned back against the tree, feeling the bite of cold – though the forest sheltered them from the worst of the night winds. He could hear the snorting of the horses, leather being pulled from the tack as Gwen bustled about. The thump of packs hitting the forest floor near Merlin's left, a scuttle of mice behind the roots of the tree. Blackness. He could hear more breaking of twigs, leaves rustling.

The forest was so loud. He could smell the sharp damp of earth in his nostrils, and feel the faint tinge of green to the magic. But he could not see.

He counted the seconds until he heard Arthur return, "Merlin," he announced, dropping what sounded like a pile of wood on the floor. Merlin breathed out again.

Flint, striking. Then the crackle of fire, like the one which had burned Leia's house, the fire that had sent Will away. It was nearly close enough for Merlin to feel its warmth, tingling.

The rustle of trees masked footfalls in the leaves, and Merlin flinched violently when someone's hand landed on his shoulder.

"Shhh- calm down, it's just me," said Arthur, "Sorry. Sorry, Merlin. Here, you need to get closer to the-"

"No," said Merlin, voice scratchy from hours of silence.

"You'll freeze," insisted Arthur, pulling him forcibly up by the armpits and Merlin struggled, kicking out.

"What the- stop this at once," said Arthur, anger creeping back into his voice and Merlin knew he should be reasonable, he could feel Arthur nearly cracking under the multiple revelations of the last few days, truths and secrets and lies all mixed together in a bloody stain but-

"You're being ridiculous! For heaven's sake-"

The fire should be yellow red, but all Merlin could see was _black._

"_Please,_" he said, and he was surprised to hear his own voice sounding like it did. As if, being blind, he forgot he could speak. He blinked furiously, out of reflex. He could hear Morgana talking somewhere to his left. Horses shifting. He stood still.

Arthur paused, and Merlin heard him sigh.

"You have to move closer to the fire, Merlin – it's too cold."

Slowly, finally, Merlin relented. Arthur guided him forwards ten or so steps, then urged him to sit on something softer and smoother than wet leaves. His bedding. There was already the smell of something cooking, and Merlin's stomach protested hungrily. He could feel the heat on his face, and he tried not to move.

He listened to the sounds around him, the sensation of his eyes, still open, useless now, like the fold of his wings.

More damned rustling, confusing and everywhere around him. Someone crouched down to his right; Merlin could feel the faint press of human company. Sound of sparks, and then something hot being pressed into his hands.

"Here," said Arthur, and Merlin held the bread up. It smelled heavenly, and he took a bite, thankful he didn't miss his mouth and embarrass himself. There was a slice of hard cheese melting between the bread, and Merlin savored the burst of flavour on his tongue, the moment of colour. Within moments he had finished, picking the crumbs from his fingertips.

Arthur chuckled beside him, and a somewhere, Morgana laughed.

"More?"

He nodded, and something else – not bread- was placed in his palm. The texture was rough between the pads of his fingers, and when he took a bite, he realized it was the last of the trail-rations Arthur packed; jerky. Meat was a luxury, and Merlin chewed as slowly as he could, concentrating on the process of eating, letting his eyes fall shut so he could _pretend._

Arthur was being unexpectedly kind, all things considered. What with Merlin's deception for the better part of two years, the wings and – Merlin shivered- the _magic _Arthur still did not know about. He _should _tell him, he should have told him about everything a long time ago. Destiny blurred the line between right and wrong, it took your 'shoulds' and twisted them into 'musts'.Destiny was about passions and fears and illusions, life and death, secrets and sacrifice. Merlin twisted a finger in the chain around his neck, over the ring that hung there. The metal was warm from his chest; smooth against fingers.

He was _so close__._

_Emrys_

Merlin started.

"What?"

A twig snapped by his ankle.

"Er…" came Arthur's voice, "Merlin?"

"Did you hear that?"

_Emrys._The voice said once more, familiar._ Emrys, we can help you._

"Hear what?" The sound of metal against leather. Arthur drawing out a blade. "Merlin, are you alright?"

_Come, Emrys. _

Merlin turned his head blindly, trying to detect where the person was hiding, where the voice was coming from…before he realized that the voice was _inside his own head._ There were only ever two beings that Merlin knew could speak telepathically.

Warily, he thought as loudly as he could.

_Mordred?_

_Yes._

Distantly, he heard Arthur; "Merlin. What-"

_Where are you?_

_Hidden. There are others with me. We can help you._

_I thought you had gone from Camelot._

_I owe a debt to you, Emrys. I never forget._

_How-_

Merlin was brought sharply back to his own body when Arthur slapped him on the cheek. It stung.

"Merlin! Merlin, snap out of it!"

Loud. Arthur's breath on his face, voice laced with worry. Merlin could hear it, and his magic reached out to comfort. Merlin pulled it back with his wings, tucking them close to his body.

"Stop shouting-!" Morgana.

"Is he-" Gwen.

"What happened?" asked Arthur, lowering his voice, but the grip on Merlin's arm didn't lessen.

_Emrys. You must come to us. _

"Nothing," Merlin lied. Another lie. "I-I just fell asleep. Wasn't concentrating, sorry."

Although Merlin couldn't see Arthur's face, he could tell Arthur didn't believe him. To his surprise, however, Arthur's hand disappeared from his arm, letting the subject go without further questioning. Merlin swore he heard a disappointed exhale of breath. His heart twisted.

"You better get some rest then. We ride early tomorrow. Morgana."

There was a confusing mess of noises which Merlin gave up trying to decipher, clumsily pulling off his boots and clambering into his blankets. Voices, whispering, footsteps everywhere and Merlin edged away from the heat where he knew the fire still glowed. Shuffling. A grunt, and the _shing _of metal.

_Emrys,_ said Mordred once more, _you must come to us before dawn. We cannot venture into Camelot._

_How did you know what had happened? _Asked Merlin.

A pause.

_The Fae felt the magic, _replied Mordred, _the turn of life and death where __there should have been none__. Then your pain. _

_The fae?_

_We can talk later, _said Mordred, _you must come to us._

"G'night, Merlin."

But Merlin didn't hear.

_You can help me? The blindness-_

There was a long pause, and Merlin, desperate, could only hear the rustle of leaves and the turning of bodies. Flame, dying to embers; the smell of wood-smoke in the air. Black, black, black, black-

_Yes._

_But I can't see. How do I find you?_

_I will guide you. _

Tense under the thin cover of his blanket, Merlin tried to level out his breathing, simultaneously listening for the rhythm of Arthur's somewhere beside him. As if sensing his indecision across their mental link, Mordred said,

_You must wait until the Prince is asleep, Emrys._

_He'll hear me, _thought Merlin, torn, - _he doesn't know._

_And it must remain that way._

Merlin didn't reply.

*

"There was a time when you would think twice before lying to me."

Merlin stared at Gaius, wanting to say, _you're not the only one__._

*

Arthur was a light sleeper. He needed to be; the battle field did not leave room for rest and his dreams, when he had them, were faded and brief like fancies. He could usually pull himself awake easily enough.

It had been the whisper of wind that woke him; the tell-tale signs of someone else's breaths in the room. He lay in his bed, feigning sleep, as he heard something brush against his bedpost. Footsteps, too light to be heard except for the pause of the air it landed on. The intruder crept closer, and Arthur kept his breathing long and languid, acutely aware of the handle of the knife, just within reach under his pillow. He shifted his right wrist slightly, getting ready –

And in a flash, the assassin was upon him, knees pinning his legs down on the bed, one hand holding a long, lethal looking knife at Arthur's throat. _Arthur's _own knife. His wrists were pinned down also by some invisible force, and Arthur stared up into the face of the man above him-

It was Merlin.

_Merlin._

Merlin, white wings illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the half closed curtains, skin fae pale, eyes a shocking blue. He was looking at Arthur calmly, without recognition, and Arthur could barely feel the touch of the blade on his skin. Merlin's wings were huge either side of him, down feathers fluttering in an unseen breeze; soft and untouchable.

"Merlin?" asked Arthur, heart tearing. The knife pressed closer to his throat, cold.

"God commands it, Arthur Pendragon," said the angel.

"No, _Merl_-"

"You killed Will," he said, and slashed downwards with the blade.

Arthur woke with a gasp.

*

_Emrys._

Merlin paused at the edge of the forest clearing. It had taken him a painfully long amount of time just to get this far without alerting anyone; walking in pitch black, with only sound and touch to guide him.

_Keep walking forwards. Quickly, come._

As well as Mordred's voice, now an almost constant, itching pretense in his mind. Taking a deep breath, he tried to take normal strides, catching his palm on the barks of trees as he went, striding forwards and stumbling over roots and uneven ground.

_Turn north east. There, there- that's right. Keep going, Emrys._

A protruding tree root caught Merlin unawares and he tripped with a cry of surprise, landing sprawled on the ground, earth in his mouth. He lay there for a moment, aware of a dull pain in his ankle.

_Emrys!_

Mordred's voice was like a prayer. Merlin clambered to hands and knees, reaching out tentatively with both hands outstretched until he caught the familiar texture of rough bark beneath his palms. Pulling himself upright, he spat the dirt from his mouth, wincing at the coppery taste of blood on his tongue.

_We can give your sight back to you. Come, come quickly._

It was hard. Merlin waited with baited breath as he walked onwards, each step preparing for a fall, the endless fear that the ground would open into sky in the next step he took…then the next…then the next. Branches caught on his skin and face, and soon he was covered in scratches. He winced as a particularly sharp piece of branch flicked backwards, missing his flailing hands and cutting him clear across the temple.

_Come, Emrys, just a little further._

_How far, Mordred?_

_Just a little further._

Taking a trembling breath, Merlin kept going.

He didn't know how long he walked, or how much ground he covered. It seemed like he had been walking forever, but the darkness distorted Merlin's other senses, such as time. Perhaps he had only gotten a little way, his steps small and wary, tripping over things and almost falling over obstacles that would not have been a problem, usually.

A twig snapped, the sound sharp as a whip crack in the stillness of the night.

Merlin twisted around, instantly tense. Gods, he hadn't even brought a dagger with him.

Perhaps it was an animal? A rabbit?

_Mordred?_

No reply.

_Mordred! Where are you? Where am I?_

Panicked. _I must leave. We must go-_

Merlin's heart was beating so fast he thought it was going to force its way out of his throat. The darkness didn't waver, solid, weighing down on his chest. He couldn't breathe.

_No! Don't leave me here! Mordred!_

Merlin heard the sounds of running footsteps, then a voice, _Arthur_'s voice shouting "_MERLIN_! Merlin where-"

Crashes. Then Merlin was being slammed bodily into the tree he had been standing by, the breath knocked out of him as his feet temporarily left the ground. He choked, surprised, a ringing roar in his head.

Arthur was almost screaming into his face, voice cracked with fury, rising above a shout.

"_What were you _thinking?_ Wandering off in to the forest, _blind,_ in the _middl_e of the night?!_"

Arthur jerked Merlin up, hands fisted in his shirt and slammed him back into the tree once more, the impact jarring along loose wings. He could feel the prince actually trembling with his anger, furious in a way he had not been when he found out about Merlin's secret. Arthur's hands moved to circle Merlin's biceps, fingers tight and bruising.

"You _ungrateful_, stupid, blasted- what _possessed_ you?!" His voice was hoarse, scratched, as if he had been shouting for far too long, "What did you _think_ you were doing?!"

"Arthur," said Merlin, the word riding out his last breath, and Arthur's hands abruptly disappeared. Merlin would have collapsed to his knees had Arthur not caught him. He coughed, heaving in the cold night air.

"What were you doing?" asked Arthur, shaking him, grip tightening when Merlin tried to pull away. "You will answer me _right now._"

"I thought I heard something," said Merlin, pleading. _Mordred had fled. Oh gods._

"You thought you had- _Goddamn_, and you couldn't have woken me instead?"

And Arthur sounded so wretched, as if his words were being torn out him. Merlin reached forwards warily, palm finding Arthur's chest, open collar, neck- his face was damp beneath Merlin's fingers.

"_What if I couldn't find you_?"

With a jolt, Merlin realized there were tears.

He opened his mouth to apologize. He wanted to say, _There was a promise, _wanted to say, _I don't want to be like this forever, _and _why could I save her and not Will? _But then Arthur's hands came to cup the back of his neck, and that was all the warning Merlin had before Arthur's mouth slotted over his.

Arthur's lips were unexpectedly soft, and the forest around them seemed to sigh; or perhaps it was Merlin. Sound seemed to have been sucked into nothingness, like air from lungs. Arthur's ring dug into Merlin's skin as Merlin kissed back, fingers frozen on Arthur's jaw. Arthur groaned once, mouthing down Merlin's neck, biting at his pulse point. He pressed hot kisses into the skin there, leaving places for the wind to touch, and fitted their bodies together like two pieces of a puzzle.

"Arthur-" gasped Merlin.

And Arthur vanished from under Merlin's fingers.

There was only the sound of breathing and Merlin's own heart, hammering in his chest, a thousand times too large.

In that desperate moment, Merlin thought he could have flown.

**:i:**

[A/N] Poor Arthur, his little heart probably is about to burst from everything.


	12. part xi

**.xi**

Anticipation was a dull, insistent knot in Arthur's stomach as they drew closer to Camelot.

And as the thud of hooves turned into the clatter of cobble, he dismounted fluidly and helped Merlin down to the ground quickly, holding him steady as his knees wobbled from the long ride. It was late afternoon, the courtyard full of people and noise that made Merlin turn his head worriedly from side to side, folding and unfolding his wings in what Arthur was quickly recognizing as a nervous tick.

A stable hand rushed up to them, as well as several of the red-cloaked knights. None of them paid Merlin's wings any notice, and Arthur let out a breath of relief.

Behind them, Morgana said, haughtily, "Leave us."

Percival bowed, "The King requests your presence, my Lady. Sire."

Arthur inclined his head as an affirmative, then waved the knights away. They left, casting them doubtful looks of those who had been given orders, but were reluctant to obey.

"Gwen, I need you to take Merlin Gaius immediately."

At these words, Merlin pulled his arm out of Arthur's grip.

"I _know _the way, I'll be fine. And I'm coming with you."

"You are going to go to Gaius' and _stay _there," said Arthur, voice tight with tension, the first words he had spoken to Merlin all day, "I can handle my father."

Merlin opened his mouth to protest and Arthur cut him off impatient.

"No, Merlin. For once, just _do as you're told._"

Merlin looked mutinous for a moment, eyes unfocused. He was glaring over Arthur's shoulder, about a meter off, and Arthur's gut twisted again, sick. Merlin should never have to look that way. If only Arthur had not _left him alone _in a fit of jealous anger, what was he _thinking_-

"Come on, Merlin," said Gwen, coaxing, "Arthur's right, you need to see Gaius."

Merlin's brow was furrowed in an unhappy expression, but he conceded, fumbling for Gwen's guiding arm, wings angled carefully away.

"Fine. Alright."

Arthur watched Gwen lead Merlin away, across the busy courtyard, until they were both out of sight. He sighed.

"Uther isn't going to be happy," said Morgana, unhelpfully.

Arthur passed a tired hand over his face, feeling tired and wrung out.

"Just…be quiet and leave the talking to me, Morgana."

She fell in step with him as they ascended the castle steps.

"That has never worked out before," she pointed out. Arthur glanced at her.

"Father is going to have a fit if he sees you dressed like this."

Morgana flicked back a curl of her hair, careless, but she didn't argue – which made Arthur think that maybe she did know what was at stake here.

"I'll get changed," she said, as they reached the top of another set up stairs, then she smiled, razor sharp; "You go on ahead."

Arthur glared at her, without much heat, and made his way pass a set of guards, rounding the corner to the council chambers where his father usually held court. His hands felt cold, nervous as he never was before a tournament or faced with monsters. When he reached the towering double doors, Arthur paused. He counted to ten, slowly, before raising a fist to the dark oak panels.

He knocked, twice.

"Enter," came the voice of the King, and Arthur pushed open the doors into the hall. It was empty, save for the King. The doors closed behind him, echoing ominously in the silence.

"My Lord," said Arthur, back stiff.

"Arthur," said his Father, voice cold, "Do you want to tell me where you have been?"

Arthur took a deep breath, and braced himself.

"Ealdor, my lord."

"I seem to recall giving you orders," said Uther, conversationally.

"Father-"

"Orders which you disobeyed."

Ringing silence.

"You knew my decision on the matter." said Uther, voice quiet. But Arthur could hear the underlying torrent of anger and displeasure, like a storm under a calm sea. "Yet still you rode out with my ward on the behalf of your _manservant._"

Arthur held his father's gaze, defiantly.

"Merlin has shown me great loyalty always- a loyalty which is beyond his call of duty-"

Uther slammed a fist into the table.

"And which is certainly beyond your own! Do you know what this looks like? The Prince of Camelot, gallivanting off beyond our borders at the whim of a servant."

"It shows that we care for our people, no matter where they are," said Arthur, gaze carefully lowered.

"Indeed," said Uther, voice suddenly reverting to calm, "…And it shows that you evidently care _too much_. The lengths you go to for this boy of yours."

Arthur's eyes snapped back to his father, eyes widening at the implications.

"As I said, Merlin has shown me-"

"Remarkable loyalty, yes," said Uther, a calculating look in his eyes that Arthur did not like. "What is more remarkable is the loyalty you show _him._ You have now_ twice_ defied me in account of this boy. What am I to make of this?"

The king was questioning his loyalty. His father was questioning his loyalty to the crown, over _Merlin. _A year ago, if anyone even suggested this possibility, Arthur would have challenged them to the death.

But now…Arthur knew his father had every right. Because here he was the Crown Prince, standing in front of his _king. _ And he had absolutely no intention of revealing Merlin's secret, because it meant risking Merlin's life. His own anger, betrayal, hurt – they didn't matter in the face of this cost. The choice had already been made, because there wasn't any choice at all.

And Arthur knew it would come down to this, the moment he saw Merlin's wings, splayed white as he lay dying in a pool of his own blood; Will traitorous. _Traitor._

"Nothing, sire," he said, solemn, "I am your vessel to command."

Uther raised both eyebrows.

"And yet… If I didn't know better, I'd say the boy has bewitched you."

Arthur's breath caught.

"It won't happen again," he said.

"You're right," said Uther, sharply, "It won't. You will report to the captain of the guard for ten lashes-" and something must have shown on Arthur's face, because Uther continued, "- and I hope that will teach you the lesson I have failed to instill in you." _The last time, _was not said, but Arthur remembered that moment as clearly as if it were yesterday. It was burned into his retinas; the image of his father's gloved hand crushing the Mortaeus flower, the sickening nausea as Merlin's lifeline was thrown away. Desperate fingers through the bars.

"Yes, sire," said Arthur, forcing out the words.

"And you would do well to remind your manservant of his place," said Uther, every word a thinly veiled threat. "Or I may be forced to remind him for you."

Behind his back, Arthur clenched and unclenched a fist.

"Yes, my lord."

Uther looked at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he flicked one hand, the motion sharp like the signal for an execution.

"Dismissed."

And as Arthur turned to leave, he finally noticed something that had escaped his attention when he first entered the hall.

The mirror was placed strategically to the right of the double doors, allowing those facing it a clear reflection; while catching those entering the hall unawares. It was the largest mirror Arthur had ever seen, easily six feet high, smooth as Morgana's vanity glasses, gilded in gold. It must have cost an unimaginable fortune. It certainly had not been there when he had left, four days ago.

His reflection stared back at him for a split second, face pale, brow furrowed and expression grim. Then he banged through the double doors, and out of the hall.

:i:

"I tried to heal a girl," was all Merlin offered in explanation. Gaius had sent Gwen off on the pretense of needing fresh water, and now they were sitting across the table from one another. At least, that's where Merlin thought Gaius was.

He didn't want to talk about Will.

"You tried to heal her- Merlin, what were you-"

"She was in terrible pain," said Merlin, voice thick in his throat, "I didn't know what was wrong with her."

There was a deep, sad sigh, then the sound of glass clinking against glass; slight steam hissing from a flask. Merlin tried to pinpoint where each sound was coming from, frowning in concentration.

"A fire, you say."

"Yes."

Another sigh.

"Well, without seeing the rest of her wounds, I cannot tell the extent of your injury. The blindness could be temporary…"

"Or it could be forever," said Merlin, dully.

"We must hope for the best," said Gaius, and Merlin heard the scrape of wood against stone. Gaius was standing up – yes, he could hear the footsteps; a familiar sound that had always been an unimportant background noise to Merlin – but now was one of his only connections with the world around him.

"When I heal people," said Merlin, uncaring that he was revealing his secrets all at once – he really didn't care much about himself anymore- "When I- I always take on their injuries. But my magic helps me heal. Maybe…?"

Gaius set down something heavy on the wooden table in front of him. It smelt a little like dust and that old smell. Parchment. Books. Merlin fidgeted with the hem of his tunic, feeling useless.

"Have you noticed any changes?" asked Gaius, gently, "Shades…patches of light from dark?"

Merlin squinted, trying to see through the impenetrable blackness. He even pushed at the magic, not sure what to do, but thinking _see see see see, _as hard as he could, visualizing the room around him in vivid afternoon colours. He urged the magic towards his eyes, trying to replicate the same thoughts he did when he healed; his eyes-

Nothing happened.

"I can't-"

There was a bang of door against stone, and "Here's the water!". Breathless, soft footsteps and swishing of skirts. Gwen. The bucket was set on the floor, and Merlin could hear the tell-tell _swash _as water splashed over the edge of the wooden pail.

"Thank you, Gwen," said Gaius, and Merlin tried to turn to look at her, but she was moving around too much; the multiple pairs of footsteps confusing him. He bit back his frustration.

"W'Must clean around the eyes – please wash his face for him, Gwen."

Merlin felt the burn of humiliation hot on his cheeks.

"I can do that myself!" he protested, reaching out a hand for the cloth as something was dipped into the water and wrung out. Gwen placed it in his palm, wet cold, and Merlin snatched it and began scrubbing at his face furiously. They let him at it for a few moments, before Gwen pulled gently at his fist and retrieved the cloth. Merlin heard her dipping it back into the water then, tilting his chin with a finger, began dabbing at the corners of his eyes with it.

"I'm useless," he said.

"It's not your fault," said Gwen at once, "And I think you were very brave, rushing into the fire to save that girl. I mean, not that you aren't usually brave, and it_ was_ a little stupid, seeing you've been blinded now – though I'm sure you won't be forever! You'll get better…he'll get better, right Gaius?"

And answering sigh.

"Of course he will."

And Merlin smiled, despite himself, feeling his lips curl up at the corner.

"Thanks, Gwen."

"Hmm," said Gwen.

Shuffling footsteps. An odd sound he couldn't place.

"Here, Merlin. You need to take these eye-drops, they might help with any burns…" and Merlin let Gaius pry his eyelids apart, fighting the urge to blink when a cold, stinging liquid made his eyes water. "I'll leave the dropper by your bedside," Gaius continued, "And you'll need to administer it three times a day."

There were more noises, and then Merlin jumped at the feeling of cloth on his face.

"You mustn't open your eyes. You need to let the potion take effect," said Gaius, wrapping what Merlin was sure was a piece of linen or bandage around his eyes like a blindfold. Fingers at the back of his head, tying the cloth in a knot so that it was tight enough to stop him from blinking at all.

"Okay," said Merlin. It was very dark.

"You must tell me if it hurts – or anything changes at all," said Gaius, voice gentle.

Merlin nodded wordlessly.

"Would you like me to fetch some food from the kitchens?" asked Gwen. At her words, Merlin's stomach made a gurgling sound in response, as if announcing to the world just how hungry Merlin actually was. There was the sound like a pile of books being shifted, bottles moved. A scratching noise somewhere behind Merlin. From the window?

"That would be very kind, thank you Gwen," said Gaius, and Merlin saw Gwen's beaming smile in his minds' eye, easily conjured. Footsteps, then the door opening and closing. Merlin could hear her walking all the way down the corridor. Gaius sighed again.

"Oh Merlin," he said, and he sounded very old and very tired.

"I had to," said Merlin, but meant _I had to try, to see if it was my magic, or destiny or…I had to see why I couldn't _save_ Will._ His magic had never been so much controlled by spells or words on a page like normal sorcers- the words were just a way to focus his thoughts. It was desperation and sheer will that brought his magic into being. _Did I not _want_ enough?_ Thought Merlin, horrified, whole body going numb with the possibility, _did I not want Will to live? Was I too shelfish?_

"I know," said Gaius. But he didn't. Nobody knew.

Merlin wondered where Arthur was.

Arthur, who had barely spoken a word to him the entire day, a blank space as he led Merlin back to camp. He'd barely touched him, as if keeping a careful distance away. Merlin thought back to the kiss; Arthur's hands sure and warm on his face; rough with sword calluses but gentle nevertheless, gentle even as he kissed Merlin breathless.

Perhaps it had been a mistake; something Arthur regretted. The thought made Merlin's heart seize painfully.

Suddenly, he didn't have any appetite at all.

"Gaius- I think I'll go to sleep now," said Merlin, rising from his chair, carefully pushing it back so he wouldn't knock it over.

"But you haven't had your supper!" said Gaius, surprised, "why don't you-"

"I'm tired," said Merlin, which was half true. He felt bone weary, and the constant darkness was wearing thin on his nerves, making him constantly tense, alert, _blind_.

He turned and walked in the direction of his room, Gaius crying out "Merlin, careful-", and he walked into something below his outstretched hands. It collided rather painfully with his hip and there was a _crash. _Merlin grappled with the blackness, trying to find something to anchor himself as he stood as still as he could, not knowing where to put his next step.

"Sorry! Sorry, Gaius, I'm sorry-"

"It's alright, it's just the desk, nothing broken. Let me-"

And he felt Gaius's hands around his shoulders, guiding him to the left of where he was going.

"Careful now, mind the step- one, two three, that's it."

The creak of his bedroom door opening, then Gaius turned him around, pushing on his shoulders for him to sit. Merlin felt over the smooth-rough material of his blanket, and reached to toe off his boots, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to Gaius. Haltingly, he climbed under the covers, hands patting carefully until he found his pillow. He stretched out both wings slowly, then let them fold back.

He repeated the concealment spell once more, just in case, then – Arthur knew now.

He could barely wrap his head around it.

Arthur _knew._

"I'll bring you up some supper later," said Gaius. Merlin nodded wordlessly, turning onto his stomach so his wings could fan out above and beside him without being crushed, his cheek pressed into the pillow. He blinked in the darkness.

Footsteps. The door creaked, and then clicked shut.

Merlin shut his eyes right and pretended that the darkness was natural. Because he had blown out the candle and it was a moonless night and there were no cracks under the door.

He didn't fall asleep for a long time.

:i:

The pain was not unbearable. It wasn't – sharp, new, taking his senses by the roots and it felt as if the nerves on his back were flayed – but not unbearable.

Arthur couldn't hold back a hiss as Gaius swabbed something stinging and foul smelling over an open wound. He hadn't asked questions when Arthur came -

"This should help keep infections at bay," said the physician, repeating the dabbing motion down the length of Arthur's back.

"It smells absolutely_ disgusti_- ow!"

"The best things often do, sire," replied Gaius dryly, setting the jar of cream and balm back onto the table. He started to unravel a small roll of starch white bandages.

"I don't need those," protested Arthur, making to stand up. Gaius pushed him back into his chair with a terrifying eyebrow.

"Of course not, sire," he said, and starting dressing the worst of the wounds. Arthur sat still – taking in the plates on the rickety table, a bowl still full of stew – untouched. An empty tin plate next to one still holding a hunk of dry looking bread. He glanced at the door to Merlin's room.

"Is Merlin- is he alright?"

Tying off the last of the dressing, Gaius sighed and began clearing everything away, but did not reply immediately.

"The damage to his eyes are quite severe, your highness," said Gaius at last, "I'm afraid he won't be able to do his duties for the foreseeable future."

Something twisted in Arthur's stomach.

"But he _will_ recover," he said, sounding more confident than he felt. Merlin must get better. He would.

"Merlin usually…he heals well. But whether or not his eyes would make a full recovery…I cannot say."

Arthur looked hopelessly around at the rows and rows of books, potions and powders lining the shelves of the physicians' workshop.

"Surely there is something!" he exclaimed, voice rising. He gestured towards the tomes, "Something that would work!"

"Trust me sire, I'm doing everything I can," said Gaius, with a note of tired frustration in his voice that made Arthur feel pause; chided. "Science isn't invincible. There _is _no sure cure for injuries such as this. I can only hope to heal the eye partially."

Arthur wasn't aware of moving; only that he was suddenly standing, his chair thrown back.

"You mean that Merlin is going to be _blind _for the rest of his life?" he half shouted, the horror of it rising in his throat like bile, making his heart stop. The wounds on his back twinged painfully with movement, but Arthur barely noticed. "But his injuries aren't even-"

"A-Arthur?"

Both he and Gaius turned.

Merlin standing was in the doorway of his room, barefoot, one hand on the rickety wooden door. He was wearing a large night shirt, and Arthur was struck by how small he looked – dwarfed by the arch of his wings behind his back. And then it occurred to him that _Gaius _must know about Merlin's secret too.

There was a swathe of white bandages around Merlin's eyes. His hand came up, wary, patting the air in front of him whilst his other hand clutched at the edge of the doorframe as he shuffled forwards, tottering dangerously on the edge of the top step.

Arthur crossed the room in four strides. One step and Merlin would have been tumbling down the stairs.

_Idiot, _his mind supplied, and there was a rush of warmth filling his chest like sweet wine.

"Hey. Hey- _careful_," said Arthur, taking care to keep his voice low and calm, steadying Merlin by the shoulders. He tried to push him back into his room, and Merlin stumbled, letting go of the door to fist a hand in Arthur's tunic.

"What are you doing out of bed?" asked Gaius, voice strained with worry.

Merlin's head turned to the left, trying to pinpoint where Gaius was.

"Heard Arthur," he said, words sleep slurred. His hair was sticking straight up on one side, a tuft, whilst plastered to his head with sleep on the other. He turned back to Arthur.

Arthur berated himself for waking him up in the early hours of morning, when Merlin should have still been resting. He himself felt weary to the bone; his back a constant source of pain – but it seemed a mere discomfort next to Merlin's blindness.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he said as he sat Merlin back onto his bed. He pulled the thin blanket over Merlin, wrapping them about his shoulders and over his wings so he wouldn't chilled. The last thing Merlin needed was a fever on top of everything.

Merlin let go of Arthur's tunic to hold the blanket in place. Arthur could feel the phantom pressure of a hand on chest, warm, and he mourned the loss of it.

There was a movement in the doorway. Arthur looked up. Gaius was staring at them both with wide, shocked eyes, gaze moving from the blanket around Merlin's wings to Arthur, who stared coolly back. There was a long pause. Then Gaius turned and retreated back down the steps, closing the door behind him.

The room was dark save for the weak moonlight filtering in through the window. Arthur pulled over a chair and sat down next to Merlin's bed.

"The King," said Merlin, "Did he…am I in trouble?"

Arthur laughed.

"I think my Father is more displeased with me. Keep your head down for a while and you'll be fine."

Merlin frowned, a little crease appearing on his forehead.

"Are you alright?" he asked, words clearer as sleep faded.

"Of course I am," said Arthur, trying to sound nonchalant.

Merlin lifted his head, as if to seek out Arthur's face – but then stopped as the bandages tugged on skin. Arthur resisted the urge to touch.

"He just shouted for a while, that's all," lied Arthur, trying to reassure Merlin who looked rather unconvinced.

Long minutes passed by in silence.

"Arthur, about the-"

"You should go back to sleep," said Arthur, interrupting, trying to divert Merlin's attention away, "You need the rest to recover."

Merlin's frown deepened, lips pulling down at the corners.

"Not tired," he said stubbornly. "I…"

"Did you have any dinner last night?" asked Arthur, remembering the untouched food on the table in the workshop, "Do you want some now?"

"No."

It was Arthur's turn to frown.

"As in you're not hungry, or you didn't have-"

"I'm _blind, _Arthur," said Merlin, flatly, "Not five years old."

Arthur fell silent. The truth was, he didn't want to talk about what had happened in the forest. His emotions were a bright, vivid colour they had never been; out of control and Arthur didn't know what to do. And emotions were dangerous, left unchecked. Emotions were something that could be exploited, something anyone and everyone could see, if not kept close. So Arthur had tried dismissing the kiss as something reckless; the result of impulse, a mistake. He tried to put it out of his mind, on the ride back to Camelot. But it was hard to forget it with Merlin, a warm, warm presence behind him. It was hard to forget now, Merlin sitting so close, vulnerable and _trusting_ (because Merlin had kissed back, said a voice in his head, he had kissed back, he _wants_), close enough for Arthur to reach out and-

Arthur stood, abruptly.

"I'll send someone to fetch food. You should rest."

And with that, he left Merlin's room, almost slamming the door shut in his haste.

:i:

"You must not let Merlin enter the council chambers. Under any circumstances."

Arthur frowned.

"The council chambers? Why?"

Gaius looked grave, and he sighed; a tired sound.

"The mirror, sire. I'm afraid your Father suspects."

:i:

Days passed.

Merlin learnt how to walk by touch.

He had memorized the amount of turns in a corridor from Gaius's rooms to Arthur's chambers. It surprised Merlin how quickly he did this – the dark slowly becoming part of the world. He knew that the stone walls changed slightly, smoother, when nearing the stairs, how there were thirteen tapestries along the last corridor, and four niches which were annoyingly easy to walk into.

He could make his way around Arthur's room almost as well as his own, and he wondered if it was cleaner now that Merlin was actually spending time dusting and wiping the windows. The world was still as black as ever – so Merlin had no way of knowing.

Merlin paused in his polishing – Arthur's left boot, the one with brown leather, because it was a little older than the others- cocking his head to one side as the footsteps in the corridor beyond grew louder and louder. Strides. Slight metallic clanking. _Arthur._

The door banged open, and Merlin's head instinctively swung towards the sound.

"Nearly done?" came Arthur's voice from somewhere near the table. There was the thwack of gloves hitting wood, and a helmet being dumped on a cabinet. Merlin huffed.

"Last one," he said, putting the boot down. He made sure to lay the cloth on its right side, next to the bottle, before standing up . Two steps forwards, slightly to the right- ah, there was the table.

He made his way across the room, around the large dining table towards the bed where Merlin knew Arthur would be standing. They had worked out a routine by now. Arthur would position himself in the same place after each practice so Merlin could help him out of his armour. The chairs of the table were all pushed back except the one in the middle, marking the route to the window on the other side of the room.

Once, Arthur had forgotten to push one of the chairs in, leaving it somewhere between the table edge and the wall. And when Merlin made his way to the wardrobe, the furniture caught him unawares and he knocked into the chair and tripped, nearly breaking his neck. It was disorienting and his knees still twinged with the bruises.

Arthur never forgot the incident.

Merlin's hands moved deftly over Arthur's shoulder, undoing the buckles and lifting the pieces of armour over Arthur's head. Then the mail shirts, Arthur's gauntlets in his other hand.

"I better see my face in those boots, Merlin," said Arthur, and Merlin could hear the smile in his voice. It warmed him, fueling the spark inside his chest that kept him preoccupied, when the darkness became too much.

"Your head's too big for that, sire," said Merlin, failing to duck the swat over his head.

Armour. End of table. Six steps to the left…chair- ah.

Merlin let the armour drop. There was a clatter as something slipped over his arm and onto the floor – one of the gauntlets? Merlin knelt down to the floor, keeping one hand on the edge of the table for a frame of reference and began feeling about the floor, one flagstone at a time. It didn't sound like the gauntlet had rolled far, must be here somewhere-

"Oh for- I'll do that. Merlin, leave it," said Arthur, realizing what Merlin was doing. There was something in Arthur's tone that Merlin couldn't identify, but he straightened up all the same; slowly, so he wouldn't accidently bump his head on the table. It hurt.

Aha! Merlin's fingers closed around the metal, just as Arthur snatched it out of his hands.

"Hey!"

"Don't- I said I'll do it, Merlin. Honestly, just sit down," said Arthur, and there was the scrape of a chair being pulled back, then Merlin was being maneuvered by his shoulders and _sat._ Arthur's fingers brushed against his wings as he pulled away, and Merlin couldn't suppress a shiver of pleasure.

"Prat," Merlin muttered. Cloth, left hand side. Oil bottle, closer.

Merlin corked the oil for the armour and wrapped the rag cloth around the mouth of it, tipping it quickly heads over tails then back again. He reached for a piece of armour, settling it on his knees, and began to polish. He ran his hands over the surface of it, feeling for any dents or scratches.

There was the splash of water being poured from a jug, then another scrape of wood against flagstones. Arthur sat down across the table, and asked the question he always asked, after practice. Actually, Arthur asked this same question three times a day: once when he saw Merlin in the morning, once after practice and once at dinner – which he insisted Merlin have in his rooms.

Merlin spent most of his days either in Arthur's or Gaius's rooms. Neither thought he would be able to cope going outside by himself, or wander about the castle. He was beginning to feel horribly stifled, both by the black and the lack of freedom. His wings cramped most of the time because Merlin didn't' want to accidently knock something over with them. When he was polishing something, however, he could let them fan out naturally, the tips of the flying feathers brushing the ground.

"No change?"

Merlin shrugged and kept polishing in circles. The repetitive movement was soothing.

"No. It's still black."

A sigh.

"Has Gaius found nothing? There must be something in the libraries!"

Merlin bit his lip. Of course it wouldn't be in the libraries. Uther had all the books of magic burnt. Nearly all of them, anyway - and since Merlin couldn't read, and Arthur couldn't very well help look through a spell book, it was up to Gaius to find a cure.

For the first few days, Merlin had waited with anticipation. No matter what he said, Gaius always seemed to have the answer; some obscure passage in a even more obscure tome. And Merlin thought-

But his hopes gradually waned as the days passed without Merlin knowing, because there was no light to signal a dawn, only the rhythms of his own heart, the fatigue and exhaustion that called him to sleep, and the call of Arthur for him to wake. This was the price, and Merlin was paying it.

"Some things can't be cured."

"Shut up, Merlin," said Arthur, voice tight.

"I just don't want you to have false hopes about-"

"I said shut up!" Arthur snapped, and Merlin slumped back in his chair. He turned the armour over slightly, and started polishing a new patch of metal.

A pause.

"Sorry," grunted Arthur. "It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either," pointed out Merlin.

There was a bang that made Merlin jump in his seat.

"Wait, I forgot. It IS your fault," said Arthur, voice rising in pitch. Merlin rolled his eyes for effect, though it made him feel strange whenever he did it. This conversation came up every few days or so.

"If you weren't so _stupid_ and had a _death wish_, you wouldn't have rushed into a burning house!" ranted Arthur. Merlin imagined him gesturing furiously with a hand, the way he did when he was talking about Uther or something ridiculous (often both). "But that's the crux of the matter; you _are_ incredibly stupid, aren't you? Just barreling in with no thought for the consequences, leaving m- the rest of us wondering if you- _god_ I could _wring your neck_!"

Merlin turned the armour in his hands again and continued polishing. He would have whistled, just to piss Arthur off, but he didn't want Arthur to drop down dead from stress.

"Are you even listening to me?" Arthur demanded.

"No."

"Merlin-!"

"It's done, alright?" said Merlin, without fire – just weary. "I saved a life, didn't I? _And_ I'm still alive. With the added bonus that I don't have to see your ugly mug everyday."

Arthur didn't laugh.

"That's not funny," he said, quietly.

Merlin blinked, his hand pausing mid-circle. The smell of polishing oil was the only thing in Merlin's senses. That and the faint smell of Arthur's sweat and dirt.

"I know," said Merlin simply.

Because he did. He woke every morning, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them cautiously, hopefully – wishing every time that this was the day when his magic decided to heal him.

And every morning was still as dark as the one yesterday.

But with that darkness was the freedom that seemed even more important. Because Arthur _knew. _He no longer had to hide his wings, could let them stretch out and relax in Arthur's presence, not having to worry about brushing past. And Arthur seemed fascinated by them, Merlin thought, content a sweet warm bubble inside him. Arthur didn't avoid him, like Merlin had feared he would, nor did he speak to him as if a freak.

That alone, was enough light.

There was silence for a long time, tense and unhappy. Merlin's magic curled anxiously inside his chest, Arthur's bleak mood seeping over the table like a shroud, making Merlin fidget. Since The Incident in the Forest, Merlin's senses seemed hypersensitive, tuned to Arthur's every move and nuance. He suddenly recognized Arthur's footsteps, his smell, his voice, his laughter, his rhythm of breathing when irritated – and Merlin didn't know whether this was because of his blindness or…something else.

Whatever it was, it made his magic burn with a yearning that was almost too painful to bear.

"Arthur," said Merlin.

A quiet hum.

"Yes?"

It occurred to Merlin that he didn't want Arthur to have the chance to hide, which he did every time Merlin brought up this particular subject. There would be the sharp tap of boots on stone, and Arthur would be gone in a flurry of clothes and closing doors. Merlin pushed back his chair carefully and stood, making his way around the table, one hand resting lightly on the edge to guide himself. He stopped just short of where he thought Arthur was sitting.

The silence of a raised eyebrow.

"Merlin," said Arthur, "You're supposed to be polishing the rest of that armour."

"What happened in the forest," began Merlin, ignoring the jibe completely. And he could feel the atmosphere in the room drop; tension ratcheting upwards.

"We're not discussing that," said Arthur sharply. There was the tell-tell sound of wood on floor, and Merlin knew Arthur was pushing his chair back, he would be standing up and walking away unless – Merlin half lunged forwards until his hands hit the sides of Arthur's chair.

"Yes. _Yes we are_," said Merlin stubbornly, "Arthur-"

"I said we're not discussing the matter," said Arthur, voice flat.

Merlin didn't give up.

"Don't be a _prat, _you're the one who kissed-"

Merlin jumped when Arthur stood abruptly, the movement disorienting Merlin's fragile sense of space.

"_And I'm sorry I did, alright_?" shouted Arthur.

Merlin felt something cold clench around his heart, like a fist of iron.

He blinked rapidly, but the blackness never wavered. At last, he managed to force out a hoarse,

"…_What_?"

He couldn't hear anything beyond the his own heartbeat and Arthur's steady breaths. In, out. In, out. In-

"I shouldn't have lost control like that," said Arthur, words stilted and strange, "I took advantage of you and I apologize."

Merlin blinked – it was a habit he didn't realise he had until the action had become so redundant- shuffling his wings against his back in confusion.

"Wait," he said, frowning, "Wait- are you- you're sorry because you _lost control_? Not because you didn't mean it?"

Arthur must have been standing very still, because Merlin couldn't hear any movement at all. Just breathing. Hope blossomed in his heart.

"No. Y- I don't know!"

Merlin took a step forwards, because resisting the urge like resisting a fall – impossible.

"I don't understand-"

"That's because there _is _nothing to understand," said Arthur, voice sharp as blades, "It was a mistake and I-"

And Merlin couldn't stop himself. He took a few steps forwards, hands outstretched until his fingers brushed Arthur's jacket. Gods, if only he could _see_.

"Arthur. You _idiot_, I want- you're not taking bloody advantage-" and he, reckless and desperate, pulled on the jacket and kissed-

Merlin misjudged height and distance, and his kiss fell, not on Arthur's lips, but skin. Smooth skin; perhaps Arthur's jaw – but Merlin had no time to think before his hands were wrenched from Arthur's jacket, away. The momentum of the push threw Merlin off balance and he stumbled backwards, then his right foot somehow got tangled in one of the chair's legs, his hands clutching at air and then-

The edge of the table clipped Merlin's temple as he went down; a sharp blow of pain. Something fell to the floor with a metallic clatter.

"- Merlin. _Merlin._"

Which way was up?

There was the heat of a palm somewhere near his face, close enough to feel, not close enough to touch. _Arthur._

"Jesus- I'm sorry, I'm- you _clumsy oaf_, Merlin. Merlin, can you hear me?"

There was a ringing in his head and something in his mouth. Merlin thought he might have bitten down on his tongue by accident. At least his back was cushioned by his wings.

"Merlin!"

Merlin turned his head towards Arthur's voice, struggling to sit up.

He couldn't breathe through the tightness in his chest.

"Is it because of my wings?" he asked, hearing the uncertainty in his own voice and hating himself for it.

Arthur was close. Merlin could feel his presence through the cloth of his breeches, through his thin shirt.

"We can't do this," said Arthur, his voice equally hoarse as Merlin's.

"Why?" asked Merlin again, "I thought you wanted-"

"It doesn't matter what I want," said Arthur – so quickly and so smoothly that Merlin laughed.

It hurt his throat.

"Yeah," said Merlin, "I- yeah, okay."

There was a long, painful silence. Merlin swallowed down a thousand words that he wanted to say; and the taste of them burned his throat as they went back down. When Arthur's hand closed around his elbow, to help him stand, Merlin flinched so violently that the hand disappeared at once. He didn't know whether he was thankful for the blindness or not; unable to see Arthur's expression.

It was another moment later before Arthur said, sounding distant and authoritative once more;

"I'm going hunting."

Merlin didn't answer.

He listened as, with a flurry of clothes and the closing of doors, Arthur was gone.

:i:

When Arthur shot the unicorn, Merlin dropped the bottle of polish with a _smash._

:i:

ETA: pagebreakers edited in for easier reading. .


End file.
